Training
by WildClover27
Summary: Too many injuries. Too much worrying. What now?
1. Chapter 1

Training Part 1

It was utter chaos in the base hospital at Archbury. The entrance hall was filled with men in aviator battle dress stained black with blood, theirs or their comrades. The corridors were lined with stretchers and gurneys, barely leaving room for the staff and the seemingly endless influx of casualties being brought in from the field to get through. The air was noisy with the voices of doctors and nurses as they triaged and gave orders. Garrison found himself pressed up against a bit of olive drab wall as the medics and orderlies shoved through carrying stretcher after stretcher of wounded men from the planes that had landed after he and the men had arrived. All around him were the groans and moans of the injured and the reek of blood and burned flesh. He had caught a glimpse of Col. Gallagher moving amongst his men, head wrapped in a bloody bandage, so Craig knew Joe had not been spared either. Concerned with _his_ men, Garrison was missing two of them in this madness. He didn't know where Chief was, but at least Casino was with him. Craig inched his way down the wall toward the room he had been told Actor was in. In the initial insanity, they had been separated from the confidence man.

Outside, Goniff manned the door, doing what little he could to help. It seemed like an endless procession of ambulances, opening their doors to emit men carrying stretchers of injured and coming back with empty stretchers stained with blood, to return to the field for more. Jeeps pulled up haphazardly with the walking wounded.

Chief, left arm in a sling, made it out of the chaos with the help of Casino. The two uninjured cons sat him on a wooden bench, out of harm's way.

"Actor?" asked the younger man in concern.

"Haven't seen him yet," Casino shook his head and went back to the door.

"You okay, Chiefy?" asked Goniff. He scurried back to hold his door open for another stretcher.

"Yeah, I'm okay," said the Indian.

Casino picked up a cap that had fallen from one of the stretchers and tossed it next to the Indian on the bench. He ran a hand through his hair and looked out over the base toward the landing field. Plumes of black smoke were interspersed by plumes of white showing where the fire brigade was pouring water on some of the wrecked B-17s.

"Jeez, Man, this is bad," he shook his head and looked at Goniff. "The Krauts musta been waitin' for 'em."

The blond Cockney looked old and tired. There was no levity in his expression now and his voice was low. "Bloody 'ell, Casino. Maybe we shoulda just gone straight to the Mansion."

Casino opened the door for medics with another empty stained stretcher that was being carried out. "Naw, Chief might have been okay, but I think Actor needed to be taken care of. He lost a lot of blood."

"You figure the Warden called Terry to warn her?" asked Goniff. "This isn't som'thin' I'd want to spring on 'er."

Casino shook his head, "I don't know." He looked through the window in the door at the crowded mess inside. "I ain't goin' back in there to try to find a phone." He looked at Goniff. "And I don't have any Brit money for a pay phone. That girl's tough. She can handle it."

Garrison had made his way to the door of the treatment room where Actor was and let himself inside. He faced the white-coated back of a doctor who was working on the injured Italian. A nurse stood to the left with a metal stand of instruments between her and the physician.

Actor turned his head to look with dark circled pain-filled eyes and clenched jaws beneath an abraded forehead at his commanding officer. Craig nodded to him in support. Apparently the local anesthetic had not numbed the ten inch long knife wound on Actor's hip and groin before the suturing started. Garrison stifled a wince of empathy.

The doctor turned, pulling his gloves off and tossing them on the stand the nurse was moving away. "He's sutured. That's all I can do for you right now, Lieutenant. You'll have to get him out of here. As you can see, we just don't have the room to keep him. If you want, you can bring him back late tomorrow and maybe I will have time to check it again."

"Thank you, Major," said Garrison as the man pushed past him and out the door.

Craig turned back to his man on the gurney and stepped forward to help the nurse trying to pull Actor's slit shorts and pants back up. "I have him," he said to the woman.

She nodded and bundled up the dirty instruments in the cloth wrap they had come in, hurrying out the door. Craig didn't even try to tuck the bloody shirt tails in, just buttoning up the fly and buckling the belt.

"Can you walk?" Craig grabbed the man's right arm and helped him sit up on the edge of the gurney.

"Do I have an alternative?" asked the Italian dryly.

"Nope."

Craig draped a nearby blanket around the con man for warmth. He had known better than to bring Actor into the hospital wearing the SS tunic. There had been nothing to be done about the rest of the clothing. He pulled Actor's left arm around his shoulders and grabbed the man's belt from behind. The Italian stood up with a grimace, unable to bear full weight on his left leg. With Actor limping badly and leaning heavily on the officer, they made their way into the crowded hall and aimed for the outside door.

Casino watched through the window in the door. Even slightly stooped, the Italian's height made him visible over the heads of the people filling the hall. He was moving slowly and not well.

"Hey, Limey, go get the car. I'm gonna help the Warden with Actor. They're comin' out."

Goniff sprinted for where the Packard had been left parked when they had begun this lousy mission. Chief took his place at the door, watching through the window as Casino bulldozed his way through the wheelchairs and carts to get to their teammate.

The safecracker adjusted the blanket before he grasped Actor's right wrist and pulled it over his shoulder, grabbing a handful of belt beside Garrison's hand.

"Come on, Beautiful. Let's get you outta here," said Casino. He looked at the sea of people in front of them. "Comin' through!" he hollered.

For once, Garrison was happy to have the bullish man with him. None of them were in uniform so even the lowly rank of First Lieutenant was of no help. They all had on French peasant clothes with tight pants and pullover shirts with the exception of Actor. Craig did not know if the looks the con man was drawing was because of the blood or the German riding pants atop the shiny black boots with the once white shirt.

"Hey, Warden," said Casino around the tall man, "they get him fixed?"

Worry and lack of sleep made Craig see that question in a humorous way. He couldn't help grinning and returned with, "Judging by where that knife cut goes, I don't think I'd word it that way." It earned him a chuckle from Casino and a look of umbrage from the Italian. "He's stitched is all. Where's Chief?"

"Outside," replied Casino. "They got his arm wrapped and in a sling."

The three reached the door and it opened for them. Chief and Actor exchanged glances at the sites of their injuries. Chief looked up at the pale face of the older man and shook his head. They all looked up as the Packard skirted an ambulance and parked on the small patch of grass in front of the hospital entrance. Goniff jumped out and started opening doors.

GGGGG

Terry had been awakened in the early morning dawn by the sound of a heavy aircraft with faulty engines coming in lower than usual over the mansion. She jumped out of bed and threw on her clothes as the sounds of more aircraft grew in the distance.

Sprinting down the front steps, she stood in the courtyard and, through a pair of Craig's binoculars, watched the Flying Fortresses limp back to base in a straggling uneven disorder that had nothing to do with formation. They were low enough she could see the gaping holes in wings, bodies, and tails and the propellers that were missing or not turning. Thick black smoke trailed from the damaged wings. In morbid fascination, she stayed outside, watching, until no more planes went over.

Finally, she trudged slowly back into the house, sending a prayer that Joe Gallagher was okay. She sent up another prayer for her brother and the men, who were three days late in returning from their mission. She hated when there was no word from G-2. It made her edgy and scared.

It was a little after nine when the horn sounded in the drive warning of injured. Terry dropped her book on the ottoman and leapt out of Actor's chair to sprint to the door. She watched the Packard come to a stop close to the base of the steps. The driver's door opened and Craig got out. He hurried around the front of the car and opened the front passenger door, then the back passenger door. Chief carefully got out of the front, left arm in a sling. He stayed where he was, watching the back of the car.

Goniff got out and made way for Craig to bend over into the car. Garrison got an arm under Actor's right arm and helped the man out. Casino was right behind Actor, with a hand on his back for support. Both men took one of the Italian's arms around their shoulders and tried to take as much of his weight as they could. Chief and Goniff stood out of the way and watched with frowns. Terry had her face schooled not to react to the sight in front of her. The bloody shirttail covered the top of Actor's pants, but there was blood down to the left knee.

Terry held the door open as the three sidled carefully inside. They paused at the base of the stairs for Actor to catch his breath. Terry took charge.

"Goniff, get the bed open and put towels on it. Let's get him upstairs. Craig, get his clothes off and get him on the bed. What is it I'm dealing with?"

"Knife wound," said Craig. "It's stitched, but it isn't dressed and hasn't been cleaned."

Goniff skirted around her and took the stairs two at a time. Terry looked around at the Indian, standing back from the rest of them.

"Chief?" Terry asked.

"I'm okay. It's stitched and dressed," he replied.

"Okay." Terry edged around Craig and ran up the stairs.

The three other men started up the stairs. There wasn't room for all three of them abreast, so Garrison dropped behind and kept steadying hands on the con man's back as Casino helped his teammate up, one step at a time.

Terry hurried into the Italian's bathroom and started the hot water, retrieving a basin from the cupboard. Goniff had the bedclothes pulled to the foot of the bed and was laying towels atop the bottom sheet. Terry pulled out an aid kit and went back into the bedroom, laying it on the night table. She stepped back out of the way as the men entered the room. The pale, closed look on the con man's face worried her.

"Wot now, Terry?" asked Goniff.

"Get the basin full of hot water," she replied.

Terry slipped around the men, leaving them to get the big man undressed, and hurried downstairs to retrieve the morphine from the locked medicine chest; having the notion the man just might accept it this time. She ran back upstairs, getting the kit with the syringe from her bathroom.

Chief stepped back from the doorway where he was watching the proceedings, to allow her back in. She paused and laid a hand on his good arm.

"You sure you're okay? You need pain medicine?"

"I'm fine," said Chief. "Just take care of him. He got cut worse than me."

Craig and Casino had removed Actor's shirt and had the pants down to the top of the black boots. Craig reached for the shorts, but the con man shook his head.

"Leave it!" barked Actor in pain and frustration. "Just get me down!"

The two men sat him on the edge of the bed. Casino took his shoulders and Garrison his legs and swung him around to lie on his back atop the towels. Craig pulled the boots off, followed by the pants, with Casino holding the leg on the injured side to keep the pull off the wound. Craig moved up and placed a hand on the con man's upper arm, looking down at his second in worry.

"I'm sorry," apologized Actor for his earlier gruffness to the lieutenant.

Craig gave a small smile and squeezed his arm in support. Garrison looked up and backed out of the way as his sister approached.

"Water and towels are on the chair," pointed out Goniff.

"Thanks, Love," said Terry absently.

She looked down at the blood soaked shorts with the long slit. She was afraid to see what was under it. At least it had been stitched, but there obviously had been no time to clean up the mess.

"Okay, all of you out," she said firmly. "Let me take care of him."

The three men headed for the door. Craig hung back a little, turning back to his sister.

"I have to get this information to London, now," he said tiredly.

Terry frowned and walked up to him, taking in the bloodshot eyes and dark circled lower lids that matched those of the man on the bed. She gripped his lower arm.

"You listen to me, Brother," she said firmly and seriously. "I don't want you trying to drive back here afterwards. I can't deal with scraping you out of a bar ditch somewhere. Go stay at Chris's and get some rest before you try to drive back. We'll be okay here."

Garrison nodded. "Take care of them for me," he said quietly.

"You know I will," said Terry with a small smile.

She waited until the door closed behind her brother before turning back to Actor with an encouraging smile. "Made a mess of yourself again," she observed in Italian.

"Si," agreed the con man tightly.

She came to stand beside him, looking at his drawn face. "You're getting morphine this time," she said with firmness.

He nodded in acceptance. "Only a partial dose," he cautioned. "I don't think I can handle an entire dose right now."

Terry nodded. She moved up to the night table and opened the syringe kit. The little bottle of alcohol was removed and opened, a cotton ball was wet with the astringent and left resting atop the open bottle. Actor's head turned to watch her assemble the syringe, snap the top off the morphine vial and draw up a partial amount in the syringe. She held the syringe up, flicked it and worked the plunger to get the air bubble out of the needle and turned back to him. Actor held his arm out. Terry swabbed the inside of his elbow with the alcohol and bent over his arm.

"Good thing you have ropes for veins," she said.

His only reaction was a twitch of his cheek as the needle slid deftly into the vein. He watched Terry put the syringe back on top of the kit before she came back to look down at the destroyed shorts.

"You will probably have to cut them off," said Actor, a slight thickness to his voice. The morphine rush was working.

Terry nodded. Her switchblade slipped into her hand and flicked open. She slit up the outside of the shorts on his left, and reached over him to do the same on the other side. The blade joined the syringe on the table and she pulled the chair with the basin of warm water closer. Carefully, she eased a hip onto the bed beside his thigh. Fingers slipped under the waistband of the shorts and tried to lift them up. They were stuck to his skin. Taking a cloth with warm water, she sponged from the top, peeling the material down. He painfully lifted his hips so she could pull the garment out from under him and toss it into the wastebasket.

It afforded her the first really good look she had of him. It figured the man was built like a brick outhouse. Terry focused her attention on the wound. It was a line of sutured laceration from the top of his hip bone down into dark blood matted curls. Everything below and around it was a mass of blood clots and dried iodine. Taking a cloth of warm water, she began sponging and gently washing the skin from his hip down. The laceration grew more superficial the lower it went to become a scratch without sutures that ended deep in the curls.

"How deep is it?" she asked.

Actor was slow in answering. "Deep enough. There are inner and outer sutures."

After cleansing the sutured part the best she could, she dried it, sprinkled it with sulfa powder and taped gauze over it.

"You're lucky," she remarked when she taped the dressing on the hip. "It seems to have missed anything – uh – vital."

"I don't think it missed," said Actor drolly.

Terry looked at him sharply.

"It feels like I am cut."

"Where?"

"About halfway down on the left."

The said appendage was still covered in dried blood. Terry got up and took the cloths and basin into the bathroom. She dumped the bloody water down the toilet, rinsed out the cloths and refilled the basin with warm water. She returned and sat back down beside him. She got a warm wet cloth and hesitated before touching him.

"I'm sorry, Actor," she said.

"Just do what you must do. It's all right," he said with forced casualness.

Terry washed the dried blood away. She found the spot and inspected it. "Yeah, you got nicked," she said. "It's not bad. I'm just going to put some ointment on it and leave it. It doesn't need stitches."

"Good," said Actor with an attempt at humor. "I would really not care to have sutures or procaine in that particular place."

Terry couldn't help but choke back a laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure I would have to peel you off the ceiling if we did." She looked at him with a smile. "Is it all right if I finish washing you up? I'd rather you didn't move around too much for a little bit."

"I would appreciate that," Actor replied drowsily. "As long as it does not bother you to do that."

Terry started washing him with a clean cloth. "You aren't the first man I've washed," she said. "Of course most of the ones in New York were still under anesthesia."

Actor closed his eyes and lay still. He did not think any woman had ever bathed him like that since his mother when he was a child. He did not count the showers and bubble baths with some of his many women as a prelude to sex. It vaguely surprised him that he was not experiencing any response to Teresa's hands.

It surprised Terry more that while she was handling that part of the man's anatomy, he had gone to sleep. That must have been good morphine. She finished cleaning him up, slipped a hand under his hip and lifted enough to tug the damp towel out from under him. He never awakened. Terry pulled the covers up and tucked them around him. She squeezed a bit of the medicated ointment onto the end of her little finger and gently applied it to the abrasion on his forehead.

After cleaning up the basin of bloody water, and the soiled towels, she let herself out into the hall. Walking the few steps across to Chief's room, she tapped lightly on the door. There was no response so she eased the door open and peeked inside. The Indian was asleep on his back in the bed, arm propped against his ribs.

Terry eased back out and retrieved two pillows from the spare bedroom. Leaving one outside Actor's door, she took the other one into Chief's room. Not wanting to startle him awake, she called his name softly. His eyes flew open.

"Sorry," she apologized. "Pick your arm up a second."

When he lifted his arm, she tucked the pillow so it would support the arm while he slept.

"Thanks," he said in appreciation.

Terry smiled. "Go back to sleep, Little Brother."

He dutifully closed his eyes.

Terry went back to Actor's room, picking up the other pillow on her way in. Moving the covers off his left leg, she tried to raise his knee up with one hand. He came partially awake and helped lift the knee with a grimace. She pushed the pillow under it so the pull would be taken off the sutures. He was asleep again by the time she got the covers back over him.

Terry took the syringe and switchblade down to the kitchen to clean. Casino and Goniff were slouched tiredly in chairs at the kitchen table when she got there, dirty plates in front of them. As she washed the parts of the syringe, she apologized.

"Sorry, I didn't have anything ready for you."

"No problem, Babe," assured Casino.

"I made eggs and bacon," said Goniff.

"How's Beautiful?" asked Casino.

"He's asleep," said Terry filling a pan with water and placing the parts in it. "So's Chief." She set the pan on the hob and turned the gas flame on. Pulling a chair out at the end of the table, she looked at the two undamaged men. "So what happened? In a knife fight I can understand Actor getting hurt, but Chief? How'd he let them close enough to get him?"

"He couldn't throw it," said Casino, leaning back in his chair. "There was four of 'em on Actor. So Chiefy got into it."

"I don't imagine Actor would be much good in a knife fight," observed Terry.

"Oh don't knock 'im, Love," said Goniff with a grin. He took out one of 'em with his knife."

"His knife?" asked Terry in interest. "When did he start carrying a blade?"

"Chiefy gave him one about a month ago and started teachin' 'im."

"He was doin' pretty good without the shiv too," added Casino, clearly impressed. "You remember when you dumped me on the floor and tried to knock Actor's head off?"

"Yeah," said Terry warily.

"Well, he kicks like you do," said Casino.

Terry's eyebrows rose at that, then dropped into a frown. "Where the heck were you guys to be fighting like that?"

Casino chuckled. "Let's just say it wasn't one uh your better neighborhoods in Paris."

"Ah-h, Paris," said Terry getting the picture. "Now I understand."

"Glad you do," said Goniff.

Terry smiled. "That particular style of fighting originated in Paris."

"Who taught you?" asked Casino.

"Craig," replied Terry.

"An' who taught him?" Casino probed.

"Part of it he learned in Paris, and the rest in Italy from the cousins."

"Those must be some cousins you have," piped up Goniff.

Terry grinned with affectionate recollection. "Guido, Luigi, and Beppe."

Casino wondered how much information he could get out of the girl. "Good Italian names. They got a last name?"

Terry was on to him. "That's all you get, Boys. At least until after the war."

Goniff grinned, "It looks like it's gonna be a long war . . ."

"Probably," smiled Terry, not about to give the two any more information. She pushed her chair back. "You boys done eating?"

"Yeah," replied Casino. "Seein' as you ain't gonna tell us anything more."

Terry stood and picked up the dirty dishes.

"I'm knackered," said Goniff with a yawn.

The two men got up and headed for the door.

"Sleep good," said Terry.

"If you need help with Actor," said Casino. "Get me up."

"Thanks, Babe," said Terry.

She stayed in the kitchen after the men had gone upstairs. After washing the dishes, she strained the bacon grease into her grease tin to be used with the potatoes for tonight. The syringe parts were drained and left to dry. Satisfied the cons were all sleeping by now; Terry went into Craig's office and settled in his chair to call Christine in London. After a few minutes, Chris answered.

"Hey, Sister, how are you?" asked Terry.

"Fine," replied the younger girl. "What's up?"

Terry leaned back in the chair, "Do me a favor. I told Craig to hole up with you after his debrief. He is exhausted and I don't want him trying to drive back here. I think I can handle things on this end. Call me after he gets there."

"You have wounded?" asked Chris worriedly.

"Yeah," replied Terry. "Chief was cut on the arm, but it's been fixed. And a little bit deeper and I think Actor might have been gutted."

"Good heavens! He's okay though?"

"I think so," said Terry.

"And Rainey's okay?"

Terry smiled. "Chiefy's fine. It must have been a doozy of a knife fight those two were in."

"Actor was in a knife fight?" asked Chris dubiously. "He seems too sedate and aristocratic to do that."

"According to Casino, it sounds like he knows Savant," said Terry. "He still has about a ten inch cut."

"Where exactly," asked the younger girl.

"Don't ask."

Crystal chortled. "Oh, it must have been embarrassing taking care of that."

Terry took on a haughty tone, "Christine Josette Garrison, need I remind you I am a professional nurse? I can handle anything."

"And I'm sure you have . . ."

"All right, that's enough," said Terry in embarrassment. "Good bye."

Chris laughed outright. "I'll call you when Big Brother gets here."


	2. Chapter 2

Training Part 2

It wasn't Christine who called back two hours later, it was Craig. Terry grabbed the ringing phone before it could disturb the sleeping men upstairs.

"I'm at Chris' apartment," said the tired voice of the lieutenant dutifully.

"Good," replied Terry. "Everything's fine here."

"I won't be back for a few days," broached Garrison, afraid he knew what her reaction would be.

"Why?" asked Terry warily.

"I'm going back to Norway for a couple days. I never got back after I was pulled out that time."

"When are you leaving?" asked his sister suspiciously.

"Tonight."

"Craig!" objected Terry. "You haven't even been back twenty-four hours!"

"I know. It'll be all right."

Terry swore to herself. "Your girlfriend going to be there?"

"I can't discuss this, Terry," reminded Garrison.

"Okay," she said in frustration. "Do I need to worry about you?"

"No," was the confident sounding reply.

"Good," said Terry. "I'll do it anyway."

"I need to go get some sleep," said Craig. "Take good care of Chief and Actor."

"I will," said Terry. "Take good care of yourself."

"I'll try."

GGGGG

The chicks Casino had obtained were big enough now to be moved from their box home next to the kitchen stove to their home outdoors. The weather had grown warmer and Terry was confident the move would not be too much of a hardship on her little birds. Terry managed to carry the box of birds out the back door and down the steps to the back garden. She set the box down in the enclosed chicken pen and carefully lifted each bird out and set it on the ground. With a grin, Terry listened to their squawking and watched the bolder birds start to explore their new enclosure. The feeders and water dishes were set up and scratch thrown out for them before Terry left them to get settled.

Walking back to the house, Terry wondered if this would put the confidence man in a better mood. Actor had never gotten used to the idea of having 'farm creatures' in the kitchen. Terry chuckled. Sometimes the man could be almost prissy.

The box was relegated to a corner of the mud room and the kitchen was cleaned up. In between, Terry went upstairs and peeked in on the two injured men. Chief awakened at her supposedly silent entrance, grinned at her and closed his eyes again. She backed out and shut his door.

Actor was still asleep, his face a little less gray, his breathing even in sleep. Carefully, Terry eased the covers up so she could look at the dressing. It was clean and dry. He didn't awaken as she tucked the covers back around him again. She wondered when he had slept last. She wondered when _Craig_ had slept last. The two tended to stay awake during the entire mission they were on.

It was bad the men were often sent out twenty-four hours after returning from a mission, but for Craig to be sent out in less than twenty-four hours was insanity. She could do nothing for her brother, but at least she could make a decent meal for the rest of the men tonight. She had managed to acquire a couple dressed chickens and had an abundance of potatoes. With that in mind, Terry went downstairs to start cooking. It seemed like that was all she did. It didn't really bother her because the men tended to be appreciative of her efforts.

A couple hours later, Terry finished setting the platters of food on the table in front of the three men. For Chief, she had made up a plate with the meat cut up so he didn't have to use the injured arm any more than necessary. She wasn't sure how the young man would take to having her mothering him. As it was, when she placed the plate in front of him, he smiled up at her and said a quiet thank you.

When Terry headed back to the kitchen, Casino called after her, "Hey, what's the matter? Ain't we good enough company for you tuh eat with us?"

"I'll be back in a minute," grinned Terry. "I'm just going to run a tray up to Actor."

Trotting the covered tray upstairs, Terry tapped lightly on the bedroom door and, balancing the tray on one arm, slowly opened it. "Actor?" she asked softly, not wanting to awaken him if he was still asleep.

"Come in," he invited.

Terry nudged the door open and entered. The raised eyebrows and yawn on his face told her he had just awakened. She smiled and set the tray on his desk.

"Hi," she said softly as she approached the side of his bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," he said with a responding smile.

Knowing how morphine sometimes affected him, she asked, "Does your stomach feel up to some dinner? Roasted chicken and potatoes?"

"That sounds wonderful, Cara," he replied. "But I need to get up first."

The two exchanged looks. Terry wasn't even going to argue with him this time. "Okay, just a minute."

She went to his dresser and took a pair of tan silk pajamas from the bottom drawer, laying them on the foot of the bed, before going to the door. "I'll send Casino up."

"Thank you," said Actor, hiding his amusement.

He didn't see the rolled eyes and shake of her head as she strode down the hall.

In the dining room, Terry stopped behind Casino and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Babe, could you go upstairs and help Actor, please."

Casino's shoulders slumped. "Aw, come on, Terry. My food's gonna get cold."

"I'll put it in the oven to stay warm."

Casino shot her a look saying how much he _didn't_ think of that idea, and with a great show of reluctance, pushed his chair back and got up. As he sidestepped Terry he bent his head and whispered in her ear, "You're gonna owe me for this, Babe."

"Hey, it's not my fault!" objected Terry with a grin.

Casino pushed into the con man's bedroom and stood arms akimbo staring at the Italian who was sitting slightly slumped on the edge of the bed which was as far as he had gotten on his own. With an exaggerated sigh, the safecracker walked up to Actor and took hold of his near arm. Actor looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I come to help you," said the safecracker grumpily.

"Thank you," said the Italian in appreciation.

"Yeah," replied Casino, in a normal voice. "I understand. Come on."

"Wait," said Actor. "In the back of the armoire is a cane. I will probably still need assistance, but the cane should help."

Casino nodded, dropped his arm, and dug around in the armoire, producing a silver headed black cane. Between that and Casino's help on the opposite arm, they got the con man on his feet and into the bathroom. When he got Actor back to the bed, Casino picked up the silk pajama bottoms and held them up by two fingers on each side of the waist.

"La tee daaah," he said in a false high voice. The voice dropped to its normal low level. "Why can't you dress normal like the rest of us?"

"Why should I?" shot back Actor with a grin.

Casino tossed the pajamas to the con man. Actor took them, and slowly and painfully bent over to try to get his foot in the left leg. He was determined to do it himself and not ask for help. Casino shook his head and snatched the garment from him, squatting down to put Actor's foot in the left leg. He got both of the con man's legs in the bottoms and brought the waist up to the man's knees.

"Don't you ever tell anybody I did this," Casino said gruffly.

"Have no fear of that," assured Actor.

Watching Actor stand to pull the bottoms on, Casino got a good look at the dressing. "Catch the family jewels there?" he asked with a quirky grin.

"Slightly," admitted Actor.

Casino could not stifle a wince. "Ouch, sorry I asked."

Actor nodded. He fastened the pajama bottoms around his waist and took the shirt top that Casino handed him, slipping into it and buttoning it up.

"Ah, that is much better," said the con man with satisfaction.

Casino pushed the pillows up against the headboard so the Italian could sit up in bed to eat. "Wassa matter? Don't like Terry seein' you paradin' around naked?"

"I do not wish to embarrass her," said Actor in some semblance of explanation.

Casino chuckled. "If she took care of that," he gestured toward Actor's groin, "then nothin's gonna embarrass her."

"She was very professional," Actor replied, getting slowly back into the bed as Casino held back the covers. As the con man settled back against the pillows, Casino pulled the bedding up and smoothed it around the patient.

"Yeah, she probably was," admitted the safecracker. He sat the tray of food on Actor's lap. "You need anything more?"

"No," replied the con man. "Thank you for your assistance, Casino. I'm sorry I took you away from your supper."

"No problem," Casino replied seriously. "You need anything, holler."

The safecracker went back downstairs and motioned Terry to stay in her seat while he went into the kitchen and retrieved his supper plate from the oven. "Beautiful's fine," he said as he took his seat, to ward off Terry's inquiry.

"How come the Warden ain't back yet?" asked Chief.

"Yeah," piped up Goniff. "Where is the Warden?"

"Tell me they ain't sendin' us on another mission already," groaned Casino.

Terry shook her head. "Craig stayed in London with Chris. We don't have a mission, but they're sending him out again."

"They crazy?" objected Casino. "He ain't in any better shape than the rest of us."

"I know," said Terry. "What can I say? I don't think it's right either."

For the next three days, Terry managed the household. She changed dressings daily on both men, tended her chickens and her garden, and took care of the house. On the second night, satisfied that the wounded ones were being watched by Casino and Goniff, she worked the bar at the Fox. The next night, the two uninjured men were getting very antsy. It wasn't in them to be confined to the mansion without some form of recreation, so Terry gave them the keys to the jeep and let them and Chief go to the Doves for the evening.

The young woman parked herself in Chief's chair in the downstairs common room with a book, but did not even open it. She had been avoiding Actor. She knew it. He probably knew it. It all seemed to stem from the gift of lingerie that still resided in its box on the upper shelf of her armoire. Terry knew she was in no way in the confidence man's league, but the gift just seemed to point out that he really did not find her feminine enough for his tastes. Not to mention his falling asleep while she was cleaning him up, though she had been trying to _not_ get a reaction from him. Why this bothered her she didn't know. Sure, she could play the game of high society with him, but it was only a game; a deadly serious one in their line of work, but still a game. Actor really wasn't her type either, not that she had a _type_ so to speak. She just could not be herself when working with him.

A small noise and movement on the stairs caught her attention. Terry looked up with a frown as the subject of her musing carefully worked his way down the stairs, one step at a time, cane used heavily on his left and banister gripped tightly on the right. He was wearing the pajamas and a mid calf length robe.

"You're pushing it, Actor," admonished Terry, getting up out of the chair to meet him partway in case something gave out and he lost his balance.

"I must," replied the con man, concentrating on what he was doing. "It feels like I have been down more than I have been up. The army is not going to like this."

"Screw the Army," said Terry mildly.

She followed him to his chair and automatically positioned the ottoman under his legs. He murmured a thank you, not sure why she seemed maybe a bit less solicitous than usual. He watched her resume her seat, before reaching for his pipe and tobacco. While he made a pipe, she opened her book and gave it her full attention.

Actor reached for his small box of matches, remembering too late it was empty. With pursed lips at his minor predicament, he started to move his legs off the ottoman and reached for his cane.

"Stay put," said Terry, a bit more sharply than intended. At his closed look, she softened her voice and asked, "What do you need? I'll get it for you."

"I seem to be out of matches," said the con man. "I am perfectly capable of getting some myself."

"I can get them too," said Terry, putting her book down and rising to her feet.

Actor watched her go into the Lieutenant's office and return in a moment with a box of matches from his desk. She handed them to him with a little smile.

"Would you like me to fix you a drink?" Terry offered trying to atone for her churlishness.

"That would be very nice," said the Italian. "Will you join me?"

"I think so," said Terry with a smile.

She went to the liquor cabinet and poured him two fingers of brandy in a snifter and a shot of Jack Daniels in a small glass for herself. By the time she handed him his drink, Actor had the pipe going. The smell of the pipe smoke brought a smile to Terry's face. She went back to her chair, picked up her book and before taking a sip of her whiskey, held the glass toward Actor in a toast.

"Salute," she said.

"Salute," he returned.

They both read in companionable silence for awhile. Actor's mind wasn't on his book. The brandy was not helping the pain much, though it was more of an annoyance than anything else. He let the book rest in his lap and leaned his head back. In idle curiosity, he glanced at Teresa and watched her for a few minutes. She was looking at her open book, but had not turned the page for a long time. He wondered what she was thinking about, but her more formal behavior with him kept him from inquiring. She didn't seem to notice him watching her either. The con man wondered if he had somehow said or done something to bring about this change in her demeanor towards him. Well, if he had it was her problem, not his, or so he told himself.

It was early by con standards when the rest of the men returned. Casino and Goniff were blazing drunk. Chief just followed along, watching them resignedly.

"Fight?" asked Terry.

"No," replied Chief. "Robbie threw us out before it got to that."

They watched the safecracker and the pickpocket jostling each other up the stairs, arguing about something that didn't make sense.

"They get drunk they're like a couple kids," said Terry with a shake of her head.

"They don't need to be drunk," remarked Actor with a shake of his head.

Chief pulled a chair away from the game table and sat down, facing Actor. "How you doin'?" he asked.

Actor nodded he was okay. "And you?"

Chief looked down and flexed his fingers. "Not bad."

Terry looked up. "I'll change that dressing before you go to bed." She shot a glance toward the Italian. "Yours too."

"I am sure I can manage it now," said Actor casually.

Terry looked at him with a frown, but Chief spoke before she could.

"Gettin' modest now, Actor?"

The unusual teasing by the quiet Indian drew raised eyebrows from both the Italian and Terry.

"I don't wish to be a bother to Teresa," replied Actor.

"You're no bother," remarked Terry offhandedly.

Chief picked up there was something not quite right with the two, but wasn't sure what it was. He waited until he and Terry were in his room before cautiously broaching the thought. He watched her undress and inspect the wound that was about a six inch line up his arm. The sutures were tight and free from any signs of infection.

"Actor bein' a pain again?" Chief said casually.

Terry's hand paused with the sulfa powder as she looked up sharply at him. "Not at all." She concentrated on what she was doing.

"Thought maybe he was irritatin' you," continued the Indian.

"Why? Do I act irritated?" asked Terry/

"Naw. It's just you two ain't actin' right with each other."

Terry shrugged and began to wrap the arm with a gauze roll. "He just doesn't seem to want me to tend to him. That's his prerogative."

Chief didn't think that was it, but it really wasn't any of his business what went on between the con man and the Warden's sister. He watched the woman finish binding his arm and then put the aid kit away.

"Night, Brother," she said.

"Night, Little Sister," he replied.

Terry shut his door behind her, took a breath and crossed the hall to Actor's closed door. Was she being unfair to the confidence man. She didn't know. A tap on the door brought an invitation to enter. She slipped inside and closed the door behind her.

Actor was semi-reclined on the bed, the top of his pajamas open and pushed aside and the bottoms down below his hips, the covers leaving just the suture line in the open. Terry moved closer and tried to look at the wound.

"If you don't want me to touch you, that's fine," said the woman softly, "But I came in here to take care of that for you. It's up to you."

"I have no problem with you touching me," replied Actor. "I was not sure that you wanted to."

"Don't be silly," Terry tried to brush it off. "I always take care of you."

She sat slowly on the bed beside him and took a closer look at the sutures. "They look good," she said. Pointing a finger toward the anatomy under the covers, she asked, "Is that doing okay?"

"It is good," he replied. "I have been putting ointment on it."

Terry reached into the open aid kit on the chair next to Actor and removed a packet of sulfa powder, tearing the end off and sprinkling it along the suture line. She opened some gauze pads and laid them lightly over the wound before carefully taping them in place. Done, she picked up the aid kit and took it into the bathroom while the Italian adjusted his clothing.

"There's not much to it," said Actor cautiously. "I could have managed I think."

"Yeah, you could have," replied Terry, "but it's easier if I do it."

She walked around the bed to turn the light off for him as he shifted lower and pulled the pillows down. The only light now was a dim glow from the fireplace.

"Buona notte, Caro," said Terry.

"Buona notte, Cara," he replied.

Terry headed for the door, giving a light squeeze of the con man's foot in passing. She didn't see the small smile that came to his face.


	3. Chapter 3

Training Part 3

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Craig Garrison wearily climbed the steps to the front door of the mansion. It occurred to him that it was funny how this place had somehow become home and a haven, albeit generally a noisy one. He was physically tired, but his mind was more at ease. He had spent two days with Jenny and, more importantly, two nights. The stress of the undercover roles they had to maintain was slightly offset by the undercover comfort they both enjoyed in the tiny apartment Jenny maintained away from the perverted business she worked at. God, he wanted her out of there. The SOE was getting valuable information from her and she was dedicated to the work she was doing obtaining that information, so that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. But he felt better for having been able to spend some time with her.

Opening the door to almost silence, he walked into the foyer area of the house. His sister emerged from the dining room to stop and survey him.

"You all right?" asked Terry.

Craig nodded, walking toward his office, shedding his jacket. Terry followed.

"She okay?" the girl asked quietly.

Craig warily looked at his sister. There was nothing in her countenance but genuine concern. "Yeah, she's okay." After hanging his jacket on the coat tree, he bent back in a stretch, hands on the small of his back. Now he switched modes to the one he was most familiar with, as the officer in charge of this unit. "How are Actor and Chief?"

"They're okay too," said Terry. "Chief's arm isn't as bad as Actor's belly. That was a little too deep for comfort."

"Can they go out yet?" asked Craig with concern, knowing the rest break for his men wasn't going to last.

"Chief is borderline. I don't like sending them out with sutures still in," said Terry, perching on Craig's desk and lighting a cigarette for him. "Actor is trying hard, but he can't move well. I'd like to see him down for another week until the stitches are out . . . if you can make him."

"I can make him," said Craig with certainty. He accepted the cigarette from his sister and slumped into his chair, sucking in a soothing lungful of smoke. "You not having one?" he asked his sister.

"No, not before breakfast. I can't suck them down like you guys do." Terry looked at him warily. "We have a mission?"

Craig nodded. "I have to meet with Schaeffer this afternoon."

"Not tonight," groaned Terry. "Craig, you can't keep going like this."

"No, they said tomorrow night."

"How generous of them," said Terry with sarcastic frustration. "You get two missions in and only one day off."

"There is a war on . . ." remarked Craig tiredly.

"Yeah and we're fighting most of it," replied Terry. She shook her head in disgust. "You want breakfast?"

"No," said Craig. "I'm going to bed for awhile before I have to go in and see Schaeffer."

GGGGG

Later that morning, Terry entered the upstairs common room to straighten it up. Actor was in his chair, left leg up on the ottoman. He was dressed in the drab Army-issued jumpsuit that was looser around his lower abdomen than his regular clothes. The book he was reading was lowered so he could give her a questioning look.

"I see the Warden is back. Is he all right?" asked the con man.

"Yeah," replied Terry. "He's sleeping. I think he'll be good for awhile."

"Why do you say that, Cara?" asked the Italian curiously.

"He's a little more _relaxed_ than when he left," replied the girl matter-of–factly, as she dusted.

Actor had a feeling he understood why the lieutenant was a little more _relaxed_ and figured Teresa must know the reason also. Garrison had never been forthcoming about his missions to Norway or what kind of team or partner he had, but the con man had guessed it was a woman. If Garrison wished to discuss his other missions, Actor would be more than willing to lend an ear, but he would never solicit that information.

"At least he might be a little less grumpy now," remarked Terry idly.

"Teresa!"

She looked up in surprise at his tone of objection. "What?" She gave the con man a smile of amusement. "What, Caro? You think I can't tell when you and Casino haven't gotten any lately? You're a little irritable and he's downright grumpy. Goniff flat says it and you never know what Chief is thinking."

"That is not a lady-like thing to mention . . . and especially regarding your brother." He made a face, unable to resist asking what made him predictable in her eyes. "What makes you think that is what causes us to be _irritable_?"

Terry laughed outright. "Actor, I live with five men. After awhile I can see the pattern."

"You will never become a lady talking like that," he scolded.

"I never said I was one," teased Terry.

"I am trying to teach you to become one," said Actor.

"And I think you are doing a good job," said Terry in acknowledgment of that. "But it's sow's ear to silk purse. It's never going to become second nature."

"It could be, if you want it to," persisted the confidence man. He was not willing to accept defeat. Teresa was different from the women he had known in his life. That intrigued him and he wondered why she seemed to resist being molded into the type of woman he was used to.

Terry shrugged. "For the duration of the war, working with you, fine," she admitted. "After? I don't know."

"There may not be an after," said the man with unusual fatalism.

"That's true too," agreed Terry.

Actor continued to wonder why he was fascinated with Teresa. She was very independent, not something he liked in women, having been brought up in a male dominated household, so he tried to make her into his ideal of a woman. And she resisted; not always blatantly, but enough to frustrate him at times.

Try as she might, Terry could not stay mad at the Italian. He was doing what he was supposed to be doing with her, turning her into a con woman, but sometimes she felt he did it a little too enthusiastically. She put the dust cloth down with a sigh and moved behind his seat to slip her arms around his neck from behind and give a little hug.

"Maybe don't try so hard," she advised quietly into his ear.

"I must, Teresa," he replied resignedly. "Your life might depend on it. All of our lives may depend on it."

Terry sighed and placed a light kiss on the top of his head. She rested her cheek against the side of his head, just above his ear, and peered around to see what he was reading. It was an aged book, pages slightly yellowed and bound in worn leather. It was written in French. She tried to follow the words on the page, but it was slow going. The language was old. As she continued to try to read, Actor shifted the book to his right hand and reached up with his left to lightly clasp her right wrist and rub it with his thumb.

"How did you come to learn so many languages?" she asked quietly beside his ear.

"Our family was multilingual," he replied. "I learned the Milanese, Tuscan, and Roman dialects, French and German. I have an ear for languages. I picked up the nuances of the Swiss dialects, and whatever country I was working the cons in, I learned that language also."

"How many languages do you speak?" she asked out of curiosity.

The book leaned back onto his lap as he contemplated that. "I really do not know. I have never counted them. Most of them I am not fluent in, but I can hold a decent conversation."

"Actor," said Terry affectionately, "You have to be the most intelligent man I have ever met."

"I am quite knowledgeable," he corrected, pleased with the compliment.

And totally without humility, thought the girl in amusement.

"Cara, you are also very intelligent," said Actor. "You are fluent in four languages. And you pick up my instruction quickly."

"Good teacher," Terry said.

"That too," he sent back with a twinkle in his eye.

Terry couldn't help but laugh. She gave him a quick tight hug and a peck on the cheek before starting to pull back. His hand on her arm stopped her. She bent forward to look at him. His fingers went to the back of her head and he kissed her lightly. Terry smiled and gave him a quick kiss back.

"Are you over your anger?" the con man asked.

Terry moved around to look down at him with a cocked head as though contemplating the answer. "I'm done being _mad_ at you," she admitted. "But I haven't _forgiven_ you for the lingerie. That was a little insulting."

Actor frowned in frustration. "It was not meant to be. How you are dressed sometimes gives you a confidence you need."

"Maybe," Terry was willing to admit. "Just don't do it again. The way I dress is me. That isn't me. I'm not like you, Caro."

Actor wished she would not fight it so much. "I think there is another side of you. You can play the roles too easily for there not to be. You are resisting it."

Terry sighed. "I promise to try harder," she said, "if you will try a little less hard."

"Wear the things I gave you when we are on a con," he requested. "Give it a chance. I promise I will not buy you anymore things of an intimate nature, if that is what you truly wish."

"Okay."

GGGGG

Garrison was up, showered, shaved and in uniform in time to leave for his briefing. As he walked down the stairs, Casino and Goniff looked up from a poker game.

"Aw, Warden, not again?" complained the safecracker.

"It's what we do," replied Garrison.

"Yeah, too bloody much," whined Goniff.

"The Warden has been on one mission more than you have in the past week," reminded Actor from his chair.

Goniff gave him a dirty look. "Yeah, well 'e don't 'ave much of a choice."

"Neither do we, yuh dumb Limey," smarted Casino back at the pickpocket.

"We could always scarper," said Goniff with a shrug.

"Yeah and who'd feed you?" shot Terry coming from the kitchen. She looked at Craig as he put his cap on. "Speaking of eating, you haven't since you got back."

"I'll eat tonight," said Craig.

"You better," she said grouchily. "If you guys get any thinner, I'll have to run up north and haul back some whale meat."

That even brought a dubious look from her brother, besides the other four men.

Terry turned both palms up. "They say it tastes like beef."

"Don't you dare," warned Craig. He glanced at his watch and reached for the door knob, pausing to shoot another look at his sister to make sure she was joking. She smiled benignly at him, leaving him worried as he went out the door. One never knew just what his sister would do.

"Whale?" asked Chief after the door closed behind Garrison. "You're makin' that up."

"Nope," replied Terry.

Actor picked up the local newspaper and thumbed through it until he found the page he wanted. He folded the paper up and reached to his right with a small grimace of pain to hand it to the Indian. Chief looked at two cartoon strips labeled "Whale Meat 1 Fried" and "Whale Meat 2 Stewed." They gave actual recipes for the preparation of the meat. Actor watched the young man's face pucker up in distrust.

"I've eaten some strange things," admitted Chief, "but ain't eaten whale before."

Goniff was watching the younger man's face also. "You mean she ain't joking, Mate?"

"I'm not joking," said Terry. "They are apparently eating it up north."

"You know those Scotch people eat weird stuff," said Casino.

"Scottish people," Actor automatically corrected.

Casino threw a cigarette at the Italian and received a warning look in reply, even as Actor put the end of the cigarette between his lips and lit it with his silver lighter. Terry walked up behind Casino and flicked the back of his head lightly with the backs of her fingers. He ducked.

"Tonight," Terry announced, "we are having 'potato surprise'."

"My recipe?" asked Goniff brightly.

"No," replied Terry firmly with a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her face.

She turned and bounced back to the safety of her kitchen before anything else could escalate in the common room. The dish she had put together with sliced potatoes, sliced onion, grated carrot, fried bits of spam and a few rashers of bacon in a cream sauce made from a rare can of evaporated milk and ground oats for thickener was cooking away in the oven when Garrison returned. While he was changing out of his more formal uniform into the less formal olive drab shirt and trousers he wore around the mansion, Terry set the table and carefully cut and washed a small head of lettuce. A quick dressing was made and placed in a creamer on the table. She shook her head. A trip to London was called for soon to hit her Black Market connections. She hated the Black Market, but sometimes it was a necessity when they couldn't get enough meat from the Army, who seemed disinclined to give them the rations a normal soldier would receive. Terry carefully dished up the potato concoction into equal portions on five plates and a smaller portion on the sixth. Portions of lettuce went beside the potato. The plates were distributed on the table with the smallest portion at her place. It would have to do.

Garrison waited until after the dinner dishes were washed before coming to the door of his office to get his group.

"We have a mission," announced Craig with his usual aplomb.

Actor looked up, noncommittal mask in place covering his concern over how he was to function in the condition he was in. He rose carefully, albeit painfully, to his feet, still showing nothing in his countenance.

"You and Chief aren't going, Actor," said Garrison, "but you're welcome to sit in on the briefing." Craig looked to his sister. "Terry, you are going."

The young woman rose from the gaming table, with a quick glance at the con man and walked into the office, taking her usual seat.

Garrison had taken his place at the head of the table and was removing the paperwork from his briefcase.

"Terry, I need you to be Actor on this one."

This brought laughter from the table, except for the con man.

"That'll be the day," muttered Terry in amusement.

"Hey, uh, Warden," cracked Casino. "In case you haven't noticed, she's a little short and she ain't built right."

"Excuse me?" shot back Terry indignantly. "What's wrong with the way I'm built?"

"Not a thing, Babe," replied Casino with a very quick, lascivious grin. "You just ain't built like Beautiful."

"Okay, knock it off!" barked Garrison, West Point officer persona firmly in place.

"What is the con?" asked Actor, trying to ignore the previous bit of conversation.

"Old French money is being contributed to the Reich," replied Craig. "The Allies want to find out who is doing the contributing and put an end to it. There is a German General Adler who is currently living outside of Paris. He has the list of contributors and is in charge of recruiting more. Terry and I will be going in as Élise and Michel Girard."

Terry frowned. If she was replacing Actor did that mean the original plan was two men going in? She glanced at the con man, biting her lower lip to contain her amusement at that improbable thought, considering the strong masculinity of the two men involved. He noted the expression on her face and read her mind. His left foot pushed out to connect with her leg, putting a pull on the stitches and eliciting a brief grimace. Terry's mouth curled up into a small sympathetic grin and her hand reached under the table to lightly rub the top of his knee.

Craig caught that byplay and wondered, but ignored the two. It was usually Goniff and Casino who acted up. "We have been invited to a recruitment party at the country estate the General has taken over for his quarters. Goniff will be our driver and Casino will be my aide. While we are at the party, Casino will go upstairs and get the papers from the safe in Adler's office."

"Just snatch 'em?" asked Casino.

"No, photograph them," replied Garrison. "We don't want him to know he's been compromised."

"So if I am supposed to be Actor," said Terry. "What was Actor going to be doing?"

Garrison leaned back in his chair. "The original plan was to recruit Michel Girard, an international playboy with a lot of money. That has been changed to Michel Girard who lives off his wife's inherited fortune."

"How dare you," said Terry dramatically with a French accent, bringing chuckles from the men. "So really you're Actor and I'm your meal ticket?"

"Benefactress," muttered Actor under his breath in objection to the reference.

"Something like that," replied Craig. "We parachute in tomorrow night. We will be met by someone from the resistance and put up in a safe house until the next morning. They will provide a car for us. From there we will go to a hotel in Paris. The party is that night and we go out by plane from a location in the country."

"Why does he always make it sound so simple," grumbled Casino, "until we get there and it goes down the tubes?"

Goniff grinned, "'Cause 'e's the Warden, Mate. 'E's bound to make it more complicated."

"Okay, enough," said Garrison, leaning forward again, all business.

"So where's this safe supposed to be?" asked Casino.

"Upstairs office behind a portrait of . . ."

"Adolph Hitler," inserted the safe cracker sourly.

"You guessed it," said Craig with a grin. "They are predictable."

"So I can't heist . . . uh . . . liberate anything outta the safe, like money?" asked Casino in a suggestive voice.

"No," said Garrison firmly.

"Yuh know it's getting' so these jobs ain't worth it," Casino grumbled.

Garrison couldn't help it. Fixing his gaze on Casino, in a slightly amused voice he said, "Well, I'll tell you, Casino. Next time I'll ask for a safe you can empty."

"You do that, Warden."

"So why ain't I going?" drawled Chief, clearly unhappy with this turn of events.

Craig looked at him. "I asked the doctor. He said the strain of working the chute cords could tear that wound open again." He looked at his second. "And if Actor jumped he'd probably spill his guts."

"Thank you for putting that so succinctly, Lieutenant," said the con man with a sour look of his own.

"Eviscerate, Caro," teased Terry superiorly. "Eviscerate."

"Wot'd she say?" asked Goniff in confusion.

"Split a gut," explained Casino.

Terry turned her head toward her brother to avoid the exasperated look she received from the Italian. Craig had a time hiding his own grin in response to the mischievous grin on his sister's face. She just could not resist teasing the older man. Sometimes Garrison almost felt sorry for his confidence man, but if Terry was concentrating on Actor then she wasn't teasing him.

Garrison pulled out the maps and photographs and they went over the plans in greater detail. He noticed Terry had begun to take a keen interest in every role of a mission. The brief question of why flitted across his mind and was pushed aside. When the main briefing was done, Craig kept Terry and Actor back when the others left the office.

Garrison lit a cigarette and eyed his sister. "How old were you the last time you were in Paris?"

Terry thought about it. "Fifteen. Why?"

"Then you weren't at some of the high society gatherings."

Realizing her brother was trying to estimate her experience of French high society, Terry gave a harrumph. "Craig, I was with Zia. Come on. She made me up to look at least twenty. I was taken to the champagne and caviar parties, the burlesque shows, and went with Kat to watch her work the private card games. I know how Paris was. I don't know how it is now."

"Trying very hard to remain unchanged by the change in regime," said Actor.

"Good luck with that," said Terry in disgust.

"Mostly, certain parts of society are trying to be very accepting of and accepted by the Nazis." Craig took a long drag on his cigarette. "So you can't trust anyone."

"I didn't trust anyone back then, except Zia and Kat," said Terry. "I figure if someone has money and they're with the Germans, then they're in cahoots."

"Just remember that, Cara," warned Actor.

Terry looked back and forth between the two men. Actor was protective. Craig still didn't trust her ability. She wondered what they would think if they knew she had made several trips to France for Shiv while they gone were on missions, to transport radios and guns, and to make dead letter drops. She felt a growing confidence in her ability to con her way past Gestapo and Wehrmacht guards onto and off of trains. She was rapidly learning to only trust the people she knew and sometimes not even them. But she couldn't tell that to the two men sitting there with her.

"So what exactly is your concern, Brother?" asked Terry seriously.

"Can you pull off being old world money?"

"What? With my parasite of a husband who fawns on the Germans to keep his standing in society and keep on the good side of the conquerors?" She grinned wickedly. "Sure I can."

Craig looked to his second. "Actor, work with her. Make sure she can do it. Coach her."

The Italian nodded, his face closed again. Craig got up and left the two to their session. After her brother had gone, Terry studied Actor's masked features.

"You've done it before, haven't you?" she asked quietly. "You've played Craig's role."

"I don't know what you are talking about," denied the con man with feigned indifference.

"Actor, I know how society worked in Italy during the thirties. I think I know a little about you. You aren't the kind of man to depend on a woman's support unless you had no other choice. But you have done it."

"And your point?" asked the man with arrogance.

"That you can tell me how to be a woman like that," said Terry simply. She eyed the con man. "It is nothing at all against you or the things you have done." She wondered if being kept by a benefactress also meant having to provide sex in return for money and support.

"No."

Terry looked sharply at him. Somehow she knew with certainty that answer was to the thought in her mind and not her request. She nodded. "It would be understandable though. Especially with your looks and manners."

"I was never a gigolo," said Actor haughtily. "I love women. I love making love to women. I have never and will never accept money for it."

Maybe the man actually had some scruples, thought Terry. He was taking this as an insult and she would have to diffuse it, so she carefully took a slow, calculating look of the man. "We both know you would never have to pay for it, Caro," she said with quiet certainty. The dark eyes watched her. "So how should I play this? Am I happy with the relationship with my husband? Am I disgusted by him? Do I have the same passion for keeping in good stead with the Nazi regime?"

Though there was no physical change in the man's demeanor, Terry sensed a relaxation in him. "This is how you should work it . . . "


	4. Chapter 4

Training Part 4

Élise and Michel Girard checked into the hotel on the Left Bank. Terry feigned indifference as her husband signed for the suite for them and the adjoining room for their aide and driver. The few people moving through the lobby were a mix of German officers and well-to-do French. The finer hotels had been taken over by the various branches of the German military as their headquarters.

Terry remembered staying at the Hôtel Lutetia with her aunt. It now housed the Abwehr. An odd thought crossed her mind and she wondered if by chance she had crossed paths with Actor all those years ago. Probably not. Europe was big and the confidence man had played it all. Besides, Zia would have immediately latched on to someone like Actor.

Craig finished and escorted Terry to the elevator. Casino and Goniff took the next elevator with the bellboy and the cart of luggage. Terry wandered around the front room of the suite as the luggage was deposited in the bedroom and her brother tipped the bellboy. It was a nice enough room as suites went, but the drapes were not fresh and it did not have the elegance of the Windsor in London or the Lutetia for that matter. A few moments later, Goniff and Casino entered the suite and the three men searched the room for electronic bugs. Surprisingly the room was clean.

Goniff tossed himself full-length on the sofa with his crossed booted feet on the arm. He wiggled in and smiled widely. "I'm for a nice little nap."

Craig gave him a look, but said nothing. They would get precious little sleep until back in England.

Terry walked up to Casino. "You feel up to a little walk? You're my bodyguard."

"Where do you think you're going?" asked Garrison sternly.

Terry looked patiently at her brother. "I am young and wealthy and this is Paris. It would be expected I would go look at the shops. They won't bother us, but I bet we pick up a tail."

"I had better go with you," said Craig, recognizing she was right and figured it was the con man's coaching.

Terry shook her head. "No, let me take Casino. You are my handsome, deadbeat husband. The only shopping you would be interested in would be something that was for you."

"Casino doesn't speak the language," objected Garrison.

"No, but I speak Parisian perfectly," said Terry in that language. She nodded toward the safecracker. "Franco is from the Pyrenees."

"I'll keep an eye on her, Warden," said the safecracker.

"Okay," said Craig, not totally comfortable with the idea. "But what are you going to use for money?"

"I have money," said Terry with unconcern.

Craig's eyes narrowed. "Where did you get money?"

"Some of it's mine and some of it's Actor's." She picked up her coat and handed it to Casino, who held it open for her to put on.

Garrison watched the two leave and crossed to the window where he could see the street in front of the hotel. He wondered where his sister had gotten her confidence. It seemed to have grown in the last month or so and she had not been on many missions with them. He cast a glance at Goniff. The pickpocket had fallen asleep before the two had left the room.

Turning his attention back to the street, Garrison, hidden from view by the heavy curtains, watched Terry, followed by Casino, stroll up the sidewalk. They had almost reached the corner when two men emerged from a doorway across the street and started following them. The men were dressed in suits and long coats. Garrison was surprised at how obvious they were and concerned because Terry had been correct in her assumption of a tail. He watched his sister and safecracker turn the corner and disappear from view. Craig had an urgent desire to follow, but he trusted Casino to take care of Terry.

Halfway down the block, Casino waited for a lull in the foot traffic and said in a very low voice. "We got a tail."

"Two of them," replied Terry in the same low voice. "We must really rate."

"Terrific." Casino didn't like it. Damn the confidence man for encouraging Terry to do something he considered dangerous and not being here to protect her. He pressed his arm reassuringly against the gun in the shoulder holster he was wearing. "Where we goin'?"

"A couple blocks from here. A section of clothing shops Actor recommended."

"I thought he bought your clothes," said Casino snidely.

"He's buying them. I'm picking them out this time," replied Terry, aware of Casino's disapproval.

They continued on for two more blocks. Terry had the route firmly in her head from Actor's tutelage, but found after ten years, she still remembered the area. There were fewer cars now than back then due to the shortage and rationing of fuel. Horse drawn delivery wagons traversed the cobblestone streets. It was an odd mixture of modern and old world.

Terry walked into a millinery shop. It was time to find a smart little hat. The only hats she had ever owned were cowboy hats. They were in Montana and not at all appropriate for a fetching day dress like she was wearing. Actor had suggested buying a hat. He preferred to pick out her dresses . . . and undergarments . . . but, not being with her, had suggested a different establishment to look for and purchase another evening dress.

The owner of the store came to help Terry, but did not like the looks of the burly, obviously displeased, Casino, slouched against a counter, and suggested he might want to wait at the café across the street. Terry's face became even haughtier. She told the woman that she was carrying a deal of currency and her bodyguard was staying with her. If that wasn't satisfactory, she would take her business elsewhere. The woman became all smiles and stated she had been misunderstood, motioning for a younger woman to bring Casino a chair. An hour later, Terry emerged from the shop with a cute little hat pinned cockily on her head. Casino said nothing and just followed, wanting to roll his eyes behind her back.

The two men were still following at a safe distance. It made Casino edgy and Terry could feel it. She continued to stroll down the streets, gazing into shop windows and acting like she didn't have a care in the world.

"Just pretend to ignore them, Babe" she cautioned her bodyguard. "I figured somebody would follow us. We're just doing what I would be expected to do if I really was Élise Girard."

"You been hangin' around that friggin' Italian too much," grumbled Casino, adjusting his two finger grip on the strings tied around the empty hatbox that dangled from his left hand. If she was wearin' the hat, then what did she have an empty box for it?

"Good. Does it show?" she questioned eagerly.

"Yeah, you're gettin' as nuts as he is."

Terry spotted the fashionable clothing establishment Actor had given her directions to and went inside, asking the young woman who approached her for the manager. When an older woman appeared, Terry smiled and stated her French name, all the while speaking in Parisian French. Using the alias Actor had provided her, she told the woman the establishment had been recommended by her friend the count. As Terry expected, the woman blossomed at the reference to the elegant confidence man.

Casino did not understand the conversation, but recognized one of Actor's million names. In silent attendance, the safecracker followed the two women to a private room off the main part of the shop. Terry disappeared into the dressing room and took one gown at a time from the older woman and her attendants. Casino settled into a chair positioned so he had a view of Terry and the front room of the shop, figuring it was going to be a long wait.

The seventh gown was the one. It was a sleeveless spring green that set off Terry's eyes. It had an empire waist with a gauzy green overlay beneath the V-cut bodice. Even Casino's eyebrows went up with approval at that one. It was all the safecracker could do to keep an impassive face when Terry paid for the extremely expensive gown with French currency.

Back out on the sidewalk, Terry paused to adjust her gloves, glancing down the street. Casino shifted the dress box to a more comfortable position under his left arm, the hatbox back dangling from his fingers by the string. His right hand was free to reach the holstered gun if need be. His eyes stealthily scanned the street.

"This side, fifth doorway," he mumbled.

"I see them," said Terry. "Shall we?"

"Across the street," ordered Casino.

"Nope," replied Terry, head up, a smile on her face.

She stepped out back the way they had come, headed straight for the men. Casino had no choice but to follow her. As the young woman came abreast of the two men, who were trying to act as though interested in something in the window, she turned her head with a smile.

"L'hôtel," she said casually to them, never breaking stride.

Casino wanted to strangle her, but his face remained impassive as he followed her. Crazy woman was growing balls as big as Actor's. He waited for the familiar order of "hände hoch". It never came.

They had passed two more shops before Terry spoke aloud in French. "Stupid Gestapo. SS would have been upfront about it and in decent uniforms."

Casino did not understand anything except the words 'Gestapo' and 'SS'. Was the insane woman trying to get them killed? They continued on down the sidewalks. When they came to the corner of the block their hotel was on, Casino followed Terry's bold lead and turned his head to look back. The two long-coated men were now openly following about thirty yards back. As he and Terry moved out of the Germans' view, Casino's eyes rolled upward and he gave a slight shake of his head.

He waited until they were safely back in the suite before slapping the boxes on the table and staring at Terry, arms akimbo. "Are you crazy?" he burst out in a loud whisper at her.

"What happened?" demanded Garrison.

Terry calmly removed her gloves and looked at the safecracker. "A ten year old could have spotted those two. I just let them know we are cooperative, but not ignorant."

"What did you do?" asked Craig angrily.

"She just walked right past them and told 'em we were going back to the hotel," Casino replied for her.

"In English?" asked Craig with dread.

"Of course not," denied Terry in disgust. "In French."

She dropped the gloves on the table beside the boxes and walked to a wall mounted gilt-edged mirror and admired her reflection. "Like my hat?" she asked casually to the room in general.

"Very pretty, Love," said Goniff. He couldn't resist a grin and the comment, "And it's nice it's still on your 'ead an' yer 'ead is still attached to the rest of you."

Terry turned to go to the bedroom. She tucked the dress box under one arm with the gloves in her hand. As she passed Goniff, she smiled, hooked a finger under his chin and kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Love," she grinned.

Garrison watched her shut the bedroom door behind her. Sometimes he just wanted to throttle her. Where was his second when he needed him? Actor seemed to be able to maintain some kind of control over Terry. Maybe it was his age.

Goniff had given up on his nap and sat up at one end of the sofa. Casino threw himself in a sprawl in the opposite corner, one arm over the back of the sofa, and the ever present cigarette dangling from his mouth. Both men watched the lieutenant. Goniff thought it was funny how Terry was getting to be one of them. Casino wondered what the Warden's life must have been like growing up with the girl. Not easy he wagered to himself with amusement.

Terry removed the hat and laid it carefully on the pillow she wouldn't be using that night. She was surprised at how happy the little hat made her. She had never owned a hat before and had never had a desire to own a hat before. She shrugged philosophically. She never had any place to wear one before either.

Next she opened the dress box and carefully lifted out the green dress. She would wear this one tonight. The cream-colored gown would remain, rolled in its tissue paper, in her bag. A hanger from the armoire was used to hang the green frock so it could lose whatever wrinkles it might have. Terry picked up the make-up case and set it on the dressing table, opening it and making sure everything she needed was there. She didn't have to bother really. She had filled it and Actor had come along behind her and made sure himself that everything was there.

She had learned too quickly. Now she was capable of applying her make-up and fixing her hair without help. She missed the con man. After her initial unease at having a man doing something for her that should not have been done by a man, she had gotten used to him doing it. Terry found the brushing and pinning of her hair by Actor to actually be relaxing before the con.

Now she ventured back into the main room. Craig and Goniff were going over the map again and any possible escape routes they might need. Terry had gotten hold of the map before they left England and she had the whole thing memorized. The way things sometimes – oft times – went with their missions, it couldn't hurt to know everything. Casino was sprawled lazily in the corner of the sofa. Terry walked over and sat down in the middle, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.

"Yuh got a bed," said Casino in a low voice so not to disturb the Warden and the Limey.

"I know," replied Terry quietly. "I'd rather be out here with you guys." She opened one eye and turned her head to look at him.

Casino shook his head with a half grin. "Okay, Babe, come here. You just better not get me in trouble with the Warden."

"Not a chance," she mimicked him, sliding over to lean against him, head resting on his outstretched arm.

"What were you tryin' to pull back there?" the safecracker asked out of curiosity.

"Just letting them know we were watching them and we know they are watching us and we have nothing to hide," said the girl in a low voice.

"Yeah, we got nothin' to hide all right," snorted Casino. "How did you get so cocky?"

Terry closed her eyes. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just getting used to working with you guys," she hedged. Keeping her eyes closed to cut off further questioning, she wiggled a little into a better position. She had to admit, the safecracker was a pretty comfortable fit. In less than a minute, she was asleep.

Garrison straightened his back from bending over the table with Goniff and the map. He shot a glance at Casino wondering why the man was so unusually quiet. He was surprised to see Terry asleep next to the safecracker. Casino held his hands out with spread fingers showing he wasn't touching her. Garrison's eyebrows rose and he shook his head. Apparently Terry would take a shoulder wherever she could find it. He turned back to Goniff, seeing the big grin on the smaller blond man's face.


	5. Chapter 5

Training Part 5

Terry smiled as she kept a hand delicately on her 'husband's' forearm while they listened in apparent rapt interest to the propaganda being fed to them by the Nazi General Adler. They were one of three French couples who had been invited to this dinner for the express purpose of wooing them and, more importantly, their finances to the support of the Third Reich. They were told of the goals to unite all of Europe in a pure, genteel, way of life; of Hitler's plans for an artistic and cultural center in Germany to make all of the treasures hoarded by the Jewish and other undesirable peoples available for all of Europe to see in one place, and of his plans for improving the human race and making Germany the undisputed leader of Europe and the world. And, of course, the Girards would be one of the elite families in that new world.

Terry did not dare allow herself to dwell on the thoughts flitting through her mind for fear of betraying herself through the look on her face. So she dwelt instead on her brother, admiring how perfectly he portrayed the rich, bored husband of the woman with all the money; money that was now his to do with as he pleased. Craig did all the talking for the couple as was his place. Terry was required to do nothing other than hang on his arm and support anything he said.

She fervently hoped Casino was hurrying to do his job with the safe. She wanted out of here. It didn't feel right. But then how else was it supposed to feel. When it came right down to it, the Girards and the other two couples were getting fleeced. Oh, but they were getting fleeced in style; a style which had been lacking since the 1930s.

Dinner had been a seven course meal of extravagant foods imported from all over the Greater German Reich. The first course had been seafood bisque of fresh lobster, crab and shrimp, accompanied by freshly baked bread that had no sawdust, but did have real butter, and crackers with Crème Fraiche and caviar. There had been creations made from fresh vegetables and not the kind she had to make do with in England. The meats had been wild boar, venison, filet mignon and pheasant. Dessert was Crème Brule. And there had been a different wine with each dish. It still burned Terry that there was all this extravagance and the rest of Europe was starving. Though, for some reason she felt like the fatted calf about to be slaughtered.

GGGGG

Casino had made his way, unobserved, up to the second floor that held the General's office. He quickly picked the lock and let himself into the room. Man, he hated not having someone watching the door for him. They were stretched too thin. Something was bound to go wrong.

Turning on the desk lamp, he looked around the opulent room at the richly carved heavy furniture and desk. The walls were paneled in wood and hung with paintings he had a feeling would have had Actor drooling. The only picture he was interested in was the portrait of ole Adolph that hung on the wall to the right of the desk. Pulling the painting away from the wall uncovered a wall safe. Casino shook his head. The Krauts were getting too obvious.

It took him less than thirty seconds to open the safe. Inside were stacks of papers on the top shelf and stacks of currency on the bottom shelf. It was a cryin' shame to leave that money behind, but leave it he did. He took the papers and moved to the desk. From his pocket he pulled out a heavy glove and a light bulb. Working quickly, he changed the bulb out on the lamp and retrieved a tiny camera from his other pocket. Making sure this time to keep the cord taut between the papers on the desk and the little camera, he took pictures of all of the documents. Casino then changed out the light bulbs again before returning the papers to the safe. He closed it up, put the painting back in position and wiped it down for prints. With camera in one pocket and bulb and glove in the other, he eased the door open and listened before peeking into the hall. It was empty.

Casino stepped into the hall and made sure the door was locked behind him before starting down the carpeted hallway toward the stairs. He had not gone five feet when he heard German voices and footsteps coming up the stairs. Casino grabbed the handle of a nearby door and tried it. Locked! Working feverishly, he took the spring steel pick from his back teeth and set to picking the lock. He got it opened, got inside and closed the door in barely the nick of time. Leaning against it and trying to control his breathing, the safecracker listened intently. The two Germans had stopped outside the other office from the sounds of it and had taken up guard positions. Terrific, he was trapped like a rat. The house did not have any decent ledges around the second floor and he had no rope or anything to go out a window.

Casino opened the heavy drapes a bit to let the moonlight in and looked around at the room. It was another office, but the furnishings were not as elaborate as the other room. There was a small floor safe in the far left corner. True to form, he made for it, getting it open quickly and pulling out banded stacks of French money. These he stuffed inside his shirt. The Warden had said he couldn't take money from the safe with the papers, but he hadn't said nothin' about taking money from a safe in another room. So now he had the money and he was still trapped. He stood by the door listening and hoping someone would realize he was stuck and come get him. Casino had a feeling he was gonna have a long wait.

The evening wound down and it was time to leave. Garrison hoped he had made a favorable impression with General Adler. The general seemed to be happy the Girards were willing to give their financial support to the war cause. Craig had no idea where Casino was, hoping he had made his way to the car. Terry was still on his arm playing wealthy lady as though she were born to it. He escorted her out the front door with the other couples. They walked down the brick path toward where their car was parked. Craig didn't feel right. Something was wrong, but he couldn't determine what it was. There was tension in the small hand on his forearm that indicated his sister was of the same mind.

They reached the car and saw Goniff standing by the back passenger door, alone. His look of concern and nervous movements didn't help any.

"Where's Casino?" asked Craig in a whisper.

"I thought 'e was with you, Warden," Goniff whispered back.

"Something's wrong," said Craig. He looked back at the house.

Terry was casually looking around. "There's no alarms. Nobody's running. Maybe he didn't get caught."

Garrison shook his head. "Stay with Goniff," he instructed his sister. "I'm going to look around the back and see if I can find another way in."

Terry and Goniff exchanged looks as Garrison disappeared in the darkness beyond the car. They met behind the vehicle, Goniff nervous, Terry worried.

"Where are the cars for the other couples?" she asked Goniff.

"I don't know," he replied. "It's like they're keepin' us apart."

Trap, thought Terry. She tried to see through the darkness surrounding the light from the post beside them. The light itself was worrisome. Didn't the Krauts know there was a war on and blackout? She wished she had a gun or even her switchblade.

GGGGG

Garrison stealthily worked his way around to the back side of the house. He found it odd there were no guards. Finding an unlocked set of French doors, he let himself inside. It took a few minutes and some hiding before he made it to the second floor. There were two guards in front of the door to the general's office. Craig put a bemused expression on his face and openly approached the guards.

"Excuse me," he said in French. "Do you speak French?"

"Nein," replied one of the guards.

"English?" asked Craig in broken, French accented English.

"A little," replied the slightly older guard.

Garrison smiled. "I have lost my wife," he said apologetically. "Have you seen her?"

Casino breathed a sigh of relief at Garrison's voice. He pulled a garrote from his back pocket and opened the door just a crack. He didn't know how to let the Warden know he was there, but he would be ready.

Craig sensed the safecracker's presence without seeing him. He reached casually into his pants pocket and removed one of Chief's switchblades, maintaining a conversation with the older guard even after the man denied seeing the woman. Craig opened the blade silently against the back of his leg. He hoped Casino would be ready. Gesturing in confusion with his left hand, Craig moved closer. Suddenly he lunged forward, the knife stabbing up under ribs with a hard twist like he had been taught by Chief.

The other guard started to speak at the same time trying to bring his gun up to bear on the Frenchman. Casino was quicker and the garrote cut off any sound or fight the man might put up. The two men grabbed their victims and dragged them back into the room Casino had come out of. Both dead guards were relieved of their weapons. Stealthily, Garrison and Casino made their way back downstairs and to the room with the double doors leading out. The lack of any more guards worried Garrison.

GGGGG

Shots rang out from the other side of the estate. Terry and Goniff looked around. Garrison and Casino were nowhere to be seen and the shots had come from the opposite direction that Craig had gone. Terry started backing toward the right side of the car while Goniff backed up toward the driver's door. Out of the darkness stepped General Adler and a soldier with a rifle. Terry froze.

"General, what is going on?" she asked in apprehensive French. "We heard gunshots?"

"Oh that is nothing to worry about," said the general with the smile of a cat playing with a mouse. "There was an intruder. He has been taken care of. And where might your husband be?"

"He said he dropped his watch," said Terry smoothly, but with a hint of apprehension. "He went back to look for it."

"Funny," said Adler knowingly. "I did not pass him coming here."

Terry made a face, shook her head and shrugged. "That is what he told me, General. I hope he returns quickly. I do not like this shooting. I wish to leave."

The general pulled a gun out and pointed it at Terry while the soldier aimed his gun at Goniff.

"What is this?" demanded Terry in outraged French.

"Did you really think we would allow you to live?" asked the general with derision. "Why would we do that and accept the pittance you wish to donate to our righteous cause, when we can kill you and take all of your money and treasures?"

"How dare you threaten me!" exclaimed Terry.

The sound of the gun being cocked had Terry falling silent. She was at a disadvantage and a grave one. She was not carrying a gun and did not even have a blade on her. Even if she had her knife, she could not throw it faster than the general could pull the trigger. Terry dared not take a quick glance at Goniff. She knew the Englishman was in basically the same position she was on the opposite side of the car. The soldier who had him covered made him drop his pistol.

Garrison and Casino moved out of the cover of the trees several yards behind the car. Casino did not wait, but stepped forward and to the right, intent on making the general his target. Garrison stepped left and forward to target the man covering Goniff. As if on cue, both men fired. Terry flung herself to her left on the ground. The general's pistol fired as he pitched forward and the girl felt a tug on her right arm, but couldn't pay attention to it as the German officer landed atop her.

More shots rang out from the far side of the car and the area was suddenly flooded with light. Casino went into a rolling dive over Terry and came up to a crouch behind the right front fender of the staff car. There was nobody standing on the opposite side of the car. He didn't know if Garrison or Goniff had been hit, but there was a line of soldiers advancing toward them from the line of trees in front of the estate, firing as they came. Casino fired off a few shots, making the line of men scatter. He could hear gunfire from close to the car and figured the lieutenant and the Limey were on the ground shooting.

Terry shoved the body off her and picked up the Luger that was still in the officer's hand. As she moved him, a small handgun fell from a shoulder holster. She picked that up too and stuck it in her bra for lack of any better place to put it. There were disadvantages to being dressed like a lady. She crouched down by the back of the staff car.

"Craig?" she called out in a loud whisper. "You two okay?"

"I'm okay. Goniff's hit. We're pinned down."

As if to emphasize that point, bullets hit the far side of the car. Casino fired back and ducked down.

"How many?"asked Terry quietly.

Casino shook his head. "Five or six and they're scattered."

"Where's a schmeisser when you need one?" asked Terry sarcastically.

"On the floor uh the front seat," replied Casino, shooting a man trying to flank them.

Terry tossed the Luger to the safecracker as he looked back at her. She pulled the front door of the car open and leaned around the seat, grabbed the machine gun and backed up, returning to her end of the vehicle with it. "Okay, enough of this," she said angrily.

Casino didn't have time to object, he just moved at the same time as she came up around the back of the car. He fired his gun until it was empty and dropped it to finish firing the Luger as Terry opened up with a spray of gunfire. The answering fire stopped. They waited for a second listening to silence. That wouldn't last long.

Terry and the safecracker ran around to the other side of the car. Garrison was trying to help Goniff up. The pickpocket's left arm hung down, the shoulder and sleeve stained with fresh blood. Terry flung the back door of the car open and moved around the men to climb in the front behind the wheel. Casino got in the back with the Englishman, leaving Craig to get in the passenger side of the front seat. Terry already had the car started, the schmeisser propped on the seat beside her. Craig looked at her, not sure how she had come to be wheelman.

She started the car forward, glancing in the side mirror. "Uh oh," she said tromping on the gas pedal. "Company."

They all ducked as gunfire opened up behind them. Terry leaned forward and urged the big heavy car to move faster down the long drive. The engine screamed as she kept it floored in second gear, using all the power she could. All three men straightened as she bore down on the barricaded entrance to the estate.

"Craig?" asked Terry calmly concentrating on the scene in front of her. Men were coming to stand in the drive in front of the barrier.

"Run it," he said harshly.

Terry slammed it into high gear and tromped on the gas pedal. Casino dragged the schmeisser over the back of the seat as Garrison rolled down his window and stuck his arm out with his pistol. The safecracker rolled down his window and stuck the end of the machine gun out. Goniff had a pistol in his right hand, the windows on his side already shot out. Terry gripped the steering wheel tightly with her right hand and pulled the little handgun from her bra, pointing out her missing side window. Her foot on the gas pedal stayed slammed to the floor.

There was a barrage of gunfire as the soldiers scattered before the speeding vehicle. The front of the car hit the wooden barricade with a resounding crack and splintering of wood. Bullets ricocheted off the outside of the car, a few leaving spider webs of cracks, and holes in the windshield and the back window. Terry didn't slow down on the other side of the entrance, but kept up the high speed down the lane toward the road, dropping the little gun in her lap.

"Anybody hit?" asked Garrison.

"Naw, not this time 'round," said Casino after checking on the Cockney.

Craig looked at his sister and for the first time noticed the blood trickling down her right upper arm. "You caught one?" he said in concern.

"Yeah, creased I think," she replied, more concerned with her driving than the state of her arm. "The general got me on his way down."

Craig unhooked the first aid kit from under the dashboard, opened it and removed a packet of sulfa and some gauze pads, before handing the kit over the seat to Casino. The lieutenant sprinkled sulfa on the shallow furrow on Terry's upper arm. He tugged a white handkerchief from his pocket and twirled opposite corners to make a rope. This he wrapped around her arm and tied the gauze over the wound.

"Goniff, how are you doing?" asked Garrison in concern.

"Oh, I'm dyin', Warden" said the Englishman dramatically. "'Ey take it easy, Mate," he shot at Casino who was trying to bind the shoulder wound.

"Well then hold still, yuh dumb Limey," grumbled the safecracker, masking his concern for the smaller man. "It's hard enough to see in here without you movin' around."

"Warden?" continued Goniff. "You think we can get a leave in the States for this? I mean seein' as you got four of us down now?"

Garrison realized with a start that out of the six of them, only he and Casino were uninjured. That thought made him sick, but he pushed it aside and concentrated on where they were going.

"Nice idea, but don't make book on it, Love," Terry tossed over her shoulder to the pickpocket. She glanced at her brother. "You think the safe house has been compromised?"

"Probably."

"Is there a Plan B?" asked Terry hopefully.

"There's another safe house on the way to the rendezvous," said Garrison.

"So point me in the right direction, Brother," said Terry with grim humor.

Garrison directed her to the road they needed. From there Terry drove without instruction. From studying the map, once she knew which road she was on, she knew the way to the safe house and the landing zone. Her arm burned even though bound and she was worried about getting blood on the new dress, but of more importance was Goniff's injury. The Englishman was still joking, however that didn't mean his injury was minor.

They had traveled several miles when Terry and Craig spotted a blink of light through the trees at the same time. Terry stopped.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Probably a roadblock," said Garrison. "Stay here. I'll check it out."

"Map," said Terry as he started to get out of the car.

Garrison handed the map and a small torch to her and disappeared into the darkness of the woods. Terry opened the map on the seat and shielded the torch light with her fingers so she could study it some more.

"You all right, Goniff?" she asked with concern.

"I'll live," said the pickpocket.

"He's gonna need a doctor," said Casino. "I got the bleedin' slowed down."

Terry folded the map up and laid it and the torch on the seat. She kept the little hand gun in her right hand. Casino leaned his forearms on the back of the front seat beside her, pistol in his hand.

"You okay?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes, it's not bad," replied Terry. "Thanks for getting me out of that mess."

"Sorry you got hit," said the safecracker contritely.

"Slightly hit is better than slightly dead," said Terry. She reached her left hand up to pat his forearm.

After a bit, Garrison returned and slipped into the front seat.

"Well?" asked Casino.

"Roadblock," replied Craig. "They have it well sandbagged. We can't run it."

"Okay," said Terry with seeming unconcern.

She started the engine and eased the big car forward, headlights off now, around two curves and then turned left off the main road. The car lurched down the bar ditch and scraped through some small trees.

"Here she goes again," grumbled Casino.

"Oh, keep your shirt on," shot back the girl.

"You know where you're going?" asked Garrison, not at all sure.

"Reservoir," said Terry. "There's a little better track on the other side. It's going to be slow going so I don't think we'll have time for the safe house."

"Just get us out of here," said Craig.

"Then get out and lead the way. I can't see anything without headlights," said Terry.

After a very slow creeping mile with Garrison and Casino both leading the car down the partially overgrown track, Terry hazarded putting the headlights on. Garrison saw the tracks widen into what could barely be called a lane. He and Casino were finally able to get back into the car. Craig wondered when his sister had gotten so savvy. He knew she was always studying him and Actor when they planned. Terry was by no means dumb, but she impressed him with what she was picking up.

Two hours later, they had passed the reservoir and turned onto a larger dirt road. In all they had traveled maybe ten miles. Now Terry picked up speed. In another hour, they reached their rendezvous point. The Resistance was there to meet them.

Craig went off to the side to talk to the Resistance leader while Casino went to the trunk of the car and retrieved their two bags. The safecracker wryly noted the bullet holes in the trunk lid and was grateful Actor's SS uniform wasn't in the bag. They would never have heard the end of it from the fastidious man. In the meantime, Terry moved up beside Goniff and slipped an arm around his waist. His good arm went around her.

"How you holding up, Mate?" Terry asked.

The blond man squeezed her waist. "Just fine," he said. His voice had a twinge of fatigue and pain that belied his chirpy words.

"Hopefully not much longer now," said Terry, squeezing him back.

Twenty minutes later, the small plane touched down. Casino picked up Terry and deposited her through the door so she wouldn't have to lift her dress to her chin to climb in. Next, he and Garrison lifted Goniff inside. The two of them followed. They had barely gotten into seats when the plane bumped its way down the field and took off.

Terry was cold and huddled into herself in her seat beside Goniff. She heard one of the pilots enter from the cockpit, but did not look up. A blanket was stuck in front of her. She reached for it gratefully, looked up at the man, and froze.

"Well," said the Australian voice with humor, "now I don't feel so bad about losing my leave."


	6. Chapter 6

Training Part 6

Garrison shot a sharp look at his sister and up at the tall man in the flight suit. Terry was looking at the man with something akin to dread and he was grinning broadly at her.

"Thought there was something odd about your bunch," said the wing commander.

"You don't know anything about our bunch," warned Terry.

"Not to worry, Love," said the pilot. "I don't know you or them, or who I have in the back of my plane."

Terry relaxed. "Okay. Tell me something. If you're stationed outside of London, then what are you doing in Brandonshire?"

The grin got wider and cockier. "I like the barmaids they have in Brandonshire."

Terry felt the anger emanating from her brother. She turned her head to look at his icy countenance and sighed.

"Lt. Craig Garrison, Wing Commander Royce Caplin," she made the introduction, intentionally leaving out the other two men in their group.

Wing Commander? Damn! That put Garrison at a disadvantage. "Wing Commander," Craig said in a more respectful tone.

"Lieutenant," Caplin acknowledged back with a nod of his head. He turned his attention back to the girl. "You working this weekend, Sugar?" he asked.

"I don't know yet," replied Terry truthfully. She did know her brother was angry, so she tried to get Royce out of there. "Uh, shouldn't you be flapping your arms to make this bird fly?" she asked with a grin.

"I'll leave you alone," said Royce, knowing things were tense.

There was silence as he made his way back to the cockpit.

"I know that bloke," said Goniff.

"Yeah," said Casino with recognition. "He's the Aussie officer what was gonna pull rank on Schaeffer that time at the Fox."

"Was that something you forgot to tell me?" asked Garrison, still hot under the collar.

"It turned out okay," said Terry as though it was of no consequence. "The guys were visiting me at the bar one evening. Schaeffer came in and was trying to start something with Actor and me. Royce was going to pull rank on him, but Shiv came out and sent Schaeffer packing. Royce is one of my regulars."

Craig watched his sister. She started unfolding the blanket, trying to avoid him. Suddenly, the irony of the situation got to him and he shook his head.

"And all this time I was worried about somebody recognizing Actor. I never thought it might be you."

Terry cast a sideways glance at him. "It's not as bad as if it was Actor, don't you think? Imagine running into one of his cohorts, or worse yet, a mark?"

Craig just slowly shook his head. Terry gave him a toothy grin in response.

Terry spread the blanket over Goniff and herself. She felt the slight man shivering and leaned into his good shoulder.

"Cold, Love?" asked the pickpocket in an attempt to belie his own state.

"Yeah," replied Terry playing along with his game. "Thought I'd snuggle up against you if you don't mind?"

"You snuggle all you want," said Goniff. "I'll keep you warm 'til we get to England."

The rest of the flight was uneventful. After landing, they were driven to the base hospital. Goniff was taken into the surgery to get his shoulder repaired. It would be a couple hours wait.

Garrison called Christine on a phone at the desk, grateful she was home and not gone to places unknown. "Chris, can you come to the mansion for a few days? I have four of the five injured and your sister is one of them." He listened to her squawk of distress at that. "She's not bad, but I want to give her a rest. She'll be trying to take care of the others."

"Of course I'll come," said Chris promptly. "You want me to take the train to Brandonshire?"

"No," replied Craig with a tone of relief. "We're at the RAF base outside London. I'll send Casino with the car to get you. Are you okay with that?" he asked cautiously.

"Sure," replied the younger girl. "I have no problem with Casino."

In the meantime, Terry came to stand in front of the safecracker who was leaning his back against the hallway wall. He looked at the field dressing on her arm and frowned.

"You gonna get that fixed?" he asked.

Terry looked down with detached interest at the bloody bandage on her arm. "Yeah, when they're done with Goniff. I wish Actor was here. I trust him to fix it more than I trust these people. He sutures better."

"I gotta admit, Beautiful is good at that," admitted the safecracker grudgingly. "You figure he really was gonna be a surgeon?"

"Hard to say with him," replied Terry. "He does know what he's doing. You don't learn that from books, or heisting museums or in stir." She gave a jaundiced eye to the safecracker's seemingly wider girth under the closed jacket he wore. "You suddenly gain weight this mission?"

She was answered with a grin. Eyes narrowing, Terry poked him in the belly and hit something fairly hard. She looked up with an equally conniving grin. "I thought Craig told you not to heist the safe?"

"He did," said Casino cockily. "I didn't heist _that _safe."

"I guess it doesn't matter now," Terry said philosophically. She raised her eyebrows once and asked, "So how much did you get?"

Casino shook his head. "I don't know. Haven't had time to count it yet." He straightened as he saw the Lieutenant returning.  
Garrison joined the two and looked at Casino. "Would you go pick up Chris and bring her back here?"

"Sure, Warden," said the safecracker. "'S long as you give me directions to find her place."

As Craig was doing just that, Terry wandered down the hall to the public phone. She put a call through to the Mansion, using her security clearance. After a few minutes, Chief answered.

"We're at the RAF base in London," said Terry. "How are you two doing?"

"We're fine," replied the Indian. "How was the mission?"

"How is the mission usually," laughed Terry without humor.

"That bad, huh?" said Chief . "Who got hurt this time?"

"Goniff caught one in the shoulder. And I got hit in the arm," replied the girl. "They're working on Goniff right now.

She heard a faint Italian accented voice in the background remark, "I trust things did not go well."

"Nope," replied Chief. "Goniff took one in the shoulder. Terry got hit in the arm."

"Is she getting it attended to there?" asked Actor.

"I'm going to let them look at it," said Terry. "If it needs stitches I'd rather Actor do it."

She heard Chief turn away from the phone. "She says if it needs stitches she wants you to do it."

"If she prefers I do it, then of course I will," she heard Actor's reply.

"Tell him he's a dear . . . no, don't tell him that," said Terry quickly. "It'll go to his head."

"Wasn't goin' to," grinned Chief. "She says 'thanks'." His voice redirected back into the phone. "When you plannin' on getting' back?"

"I don't know," replied Terry. "They're still working on Goniff and Casino is going to get Chris." The said person walked past and gave her a conspiratorial wink. She snapped her fingers at Casino. "Why?"

"We got nothin' for supper," said Chief offhandedly.

The safecracker turned back and took the little handgun the girl was holding out to him. "Bag," she mouthed at him. He nodded and headed for the door, slipping the gun in his pocket. Terry smiled and shook her head. She had left the two at the Mansion a goodly portion of food prepared before leaving. "Go dig in the freezer and pull out some meat to thaw."

"Matter what kind?"

"Anything you can find. If you can't find anything, then I guess it'll be 'Spam Surprise'."

"I'll find somethin'," Chief assured her.

GGGGG

Chief disappeared into the kitchen. Actor heard some banging around and waited for the Indian to reappear. Chief came back and went straight to the gun cabinet, removing a .22 rifle and sticking some bullets in his pocket. The small caliber long gun had been found by Casino in the unoccupied part of the house not long after the cons' arrival. Garrison had allowed him to keep it in with the rest of their guns for some reason known only to the Lieutenant himself. Chief looked at the Italian, comfortably ensconced in this chair with his feet up. The older man was observing him with one raised eyebrow.

"No meat," said Chief. "You want Spam?" He knew the answer was no.

"Good hunting." The con man turned his attention back to his book.

GGGGG

Casino sauntered out to where they had left the Packard parked. He glanced around before opening the trunk and lifting out the bag Terry used. He shut the trunk and climbed into the back seat, closing the door behind him. Laying the bag out on the seat beside him, the safecracker opened the end. The first thing out was the little green hat with the stupid feather. His sharp eyes caught the hole in the crown of the hat. He turned the bag a little and spotted the bullet hole in the canvas. Oh is Little Miss Blooming Con Woman gonna be mad when she sees this, he thought with a grin. Reaching back in, he pulled out her small makeup kit. After another look around to make sure he wasn't being observed, Casino began transferring bundles of currency from his jacket to the bag, squashing the other dress down, put the German gun in next, and shoved the makeup kit back in, followed by the hat. The bag went back in the trunk before he took off after the younger sister.

Following the directions given to him by the Lieutenant, Casino turned down the street Chris lived on. He spotted her sitting on the steps to her flat with a small overnight bag beside her. She rose when she recognized the Packard and came to the curb with her bag to meet him. Casino double parked and got out of the car, walking around to take the bag from the younger girl.

"Hi, Sweetheart. How yuh doin'?" he asked with a grin.

Chris grinned back at him. "I'm fine. I take it you're the only one in one piece?"

"Yeah, well, some of us know how to duck."

Chris laughed and followed him around the back of the car, watching him put her bag with the other two in the trunk. Casino took her elbow and escorted her to the passenger side, opening the front door and closing it after she got in. Humming to himself, he crossed around the front of the car and got behind the wheel.

Crystal waited until they were on the way before asking, "So how bad are Terry and Goniff?"

"Goniff's in surgery. He caught a bullet in the shoulder. Terry got a slice taken outta her arm. Should be fine." Casino pulled out his pack of cigarettes and offered one to the girl, who shook her head. "You don't smoke, do yuh?"

No," she replied. "Never acquired a taste for it."

Casino put the pack back in his pocket and took out a matchbook, taking out a match and lighting his cigarette. He blew the match out and flicked it out the window. "Any place you need to go?" he asked. "We got time."

Chris nodded. "There's a store two blocks up. If you don't mind, I'll stop and get some bread and stuff to take to the Mansion. My contribution to the larder."

"Sure thing, Babe," said Casino.

When they arrived at the hospital, Goniff was in a wheelchair in the waiting room, a little green from the medicine and anesthesia, but shoulder repaired and bandaged and arm in a clean white sling. Terry was standing behind him, a hand rubbing the top of his good shoulder soothingly. Christine walked up to them and eyed her sister's state of dress.

"Lovely outfit," remarked the younger girl. "The white and red around your arm goes good with that green dress."

"So glad you approve," smarted Terry back at her with a grin.

"Are you bleeding through again?" asked Garrison with concern, looking up for his second story man in the wheelchair.

"It's all right, Craig," said Terry patiently. "I will live until we get home. Actor's going to fix me."

"That's gonna take a lot," teased Casino.

He received a dirty look from Terry for that, but it was tempered by a grin.

Goniff's face was almost the color of Terry's dress. He looked up at Chris with a miserable look on his face. The girl squatted down beside the wheelchair and looked at him with sympathy, laying a hand on his uninjured forearm.

"How are you doing – 'Mate'?" she asked with a smile.

Goniff had to smile at her hesitant use of the colloquial endearment. Normally he would have moaned and groaned, but the younger girl was being nice so instead he said bravely, "I'm just fine, Love."

"Yeah, I can see that," replied Chris with an impish smile. She stood and brushed his tousled hair back.

Casino moved over to stand next to Garrison. The safecracker shook his head and said in disgust, "Now he's got both of 'um fussin' over him."

Garrison gave a short chuckle and shook his head. "Come on, let's get out of here," he said to the group.

When Goniff and Casino were comfortably ensconced in the backseat and the two sisters were seated in the front, Garrison started the two hour drive to the Mansion. He made it outside the far edge of London before Goniff called for him to pull over in a strangled voice.

The car had barely stopped before the Englishman was struggling to get out. Casino followed him with Terry right behind. Goniff sank to his knees and leaned over on one outstretched arm, trying to keep the injured arm close to his body as he emptied what little he had in his stomach on the brown grass.

"Jeez, Limey," objected Casino, all the while reaching in his pocket for a handkerchief.

Terry was leaning down, rubbing the ill man's back. She and Goniff gave Casino a dirty look at the same time.

"Ether's not my idea of breakfast," said the pickpocket grumpily, taking the handkerchief and wiping his face..

"I guess," admitted Casino.

"You better now?" asked Terry sympathetically.

Goniff nodded, sitting back on his heels before attempting to stand. Casino got him under one arm and Terry grabbed his belt to help him up. As they turned back to the car, the safecracker noted the blossoming of bright red on the bandage around Terry's arm.

"Lady, will you quit using that arm!" he barked at her. "Yuh got it bleedin' again."

"It's fine," said Terry trying to ignore the pain that went with the bleeding.

Garrison had been leaning over the back of the seat, watching out the open back door. He nudged Christine.

"Put her in the middle so she can't get out again," he said quietly.

Chris nodded and hopped out, practically shoving her older sister into the front seat while Casino helped Goniff into the back. Craig waited until everyone was settled and then pulled back out onto the road.

"Goniff, you okay?" he called back to his pickpocket.

"Am now, Warden," Goniff called back.

"Terry?"

"It's fine, Craig," said Terry disgustedly.

Chris looked at the bloodstained dressing on the arm next to her. "Looks fine," she said in a tone that said it looked anything but.

Terry sent a glare at her sister. "Quiet!"

A half hour later, Terry and the two men in the back were asleep. Crystal looked around at her big brother. Craig was alert, but had a weariness about him.

"Would you like me to drive?" she offered. "I know the way to the Mansion now."

Craig shook his head. "I'm good."

"Is it me," mused the younger girl, "or is your injury rate going up?"

Craig glanced in the rearview mirror to make sure the two cons were asleep before answering. "It seems like it. The war's getting worse and so are the missions." There was a pause, then Craig said quietly. "I wish you girls would stay out of this war."

"Can't, Brother," said Chris just as quietly. "We've seen too much. We may not be able to do a lot, but at least we are doing something. Terry does more than I do now." She pushed her hair back behind her ear. "You ever known a Garrison to just sit by and do nothing?"

"No," admitted Craig. "But war is a man's domain."

"Not anymore," countered his sister. "You know how many women are in the Resistance? And look at the home front. Women are the ones making planes and munitions and ships." She gave a short laugh. "You remember Lacie Crocker from Midvale? Cinder wrote me she's flying B-17s for the ATA now."

Craig shot a look at Chris in surprise. "Little skinny Lacie with the pigtails? Flying Forts?" He was incredulous at the thought of the fragile appearing girl he had seen in town at home flying a bomber.

"Cinder says she wants to become a WAAC, but she can't leave Ma alone on the ranch," added Chris.

Craig chewed on that one. "She'd probably make a good Army sergeant," he admitted. Garrison went quiet pondering his family. Out of the six kids, five of them were in Europe fighting the war one way or another and two of them were girls. He wondered if their father was proud of his brood or if the thought of his offspring fighting a war scared the crap out of him? No, he decided, Will Garrison was probably bragging his kids were all good soldiers. Not for the first time since acquiring his band of Gorillas, Lt. Craig Garrison wondered if he really did want to become a career soldier like his dad.


	7. Chapter 7

Training Part 7

Actor looked up at the entrance of the returning group. Christine walked in first, carrying an overnight bag and held the door for the others. Garrison and Casino came in next, carrying the two duffle bags. Casino looked his normal, though slightly tired self. Garrison's face was drawn and unhappy. They were followed by Goniff, arm in a sling and color an unbecoming shade of green, and Terry, with an arm around the pickpocket's waist, wearing a green cocktail dress that had seen better days, but was a more appealing shade than Goniff's complexion. There was a white gauze bandage around the girl's right arm that sported a red stain.

Casino handed Terry's duffle bag to Garrison and turned back to the Englishman. "I got Goniff." He looked at the older girl. "Go have Actor look at that arm, Babe."

Garrison had accepted the duffle bag with a nod and waited for Casino to get hold a Goniff and start for the stairs. Christine set her overnight bag on the floor for now and watched the proceedings.

Actor's eyes followed Terry as she approached him. She looked weary and disheveled, hair dirty and straggly. The girl wore a green cocktail dress he was not familiar with and assumed she had bought it at the dress shop he had recommended in Paris. It would have been beautiful if it wasn't full of dirt and wrinkled badly. As she stopped in front of him, he took note of a few blood stains on the right side of the skirt. The stockings on her legs had rents and holes in them. The white bandage around her upper arm had obviously been applied at the hospital in London, but was bleeding through.

"Like my dress?" asked Terry with a hint of disgust.

"Lovely," said Actor. "However it looks as though you were rolling in the dirt in it."

Terry cocked her head in agreement, "Probably because I was." She picked at the right side of the skirt part. "Has a couple blood spots on it, but I think I can get is clean."

"How is the wound?" Actor asked. He could tell the adrenalin had long ago worn off, leaving the girl exhausted.

"About an inch and a half long and a half inch deep," she reported clinically. It's been cleaned and had sulfa applied." She looked down at him. "I want to take a bath first before you stitch it," she said.

Actor nodded in acceptance. "I will come up after you have bathed and suture it in your room."

Terry nodded and started to turn away, but stopped and looked back at him. "How are you doing? Really?"

"It is healing nicely," said Actor.

"Good," she turned to Chief with a questioning look.

"I'm good," he told her.

Terry nodded and headed for the stairs.

"Terr, how do you want me to fix the rabbits?" asked Christine.

Terry stopped partway up the stairs and looked down at her sister, puzzled. "What rabbits? I didn't have rabbit in the freezer."

"All we have left for meat are two tins of Spam and one of corned beef," said Actor. "Chief went hunting."

"There's three good sized rabbits in the refrigerator," added Chris.

"Good," said Terry with raised eyebrows. "Roast them. We can make gravy for potatoes. Guess I need to go shopping for meat tomorrow." She started back up the stairs.

"Teresa?"

Terry stopped again and looked at the con man questioningly.

"No whale please, Cara."

Both girls stared at him. He looked back at them with a small, satisfied, quirky smile. Neither of them had ever heard the aristocratic man tease Terry before. It was usually her teasing him.

With a small laugh, Terry replied. "I was going to see if I could find some just for you, Caro."

"You are so thoughtful."

Actor was pleased to see the hint of smile on her face. His eyes followed her as she turned and walked up the stairs. She was totally lacking her normal energetic behavior. As she trudged up the stairs, her sister approached the con man. Terry had told her about his injury. She figured he was still probably uncomfortable. He smiled benignly up at her, making her wonder if anybody ever knew what was really going on in his mind.

"Actor, if you tell me what supplies you need, I'll set them up for you," she offered.

"Thank you, Christine," smiled Actor, pleased the younger girl seemed a little more comfortable with him. "One of the medical kits, bandages, a syringe and some Procaine is all that is necessary."

Chris smiled back at him. "I'll get it ready." She turned and bounded up the stairs after her sister.

"Looks like that's another mission that went to hell," said Chief quietly.

"I would say so," replied Actor. "It will be interesting hearing that story." Garrison was subdued, Terry was almost depressed and Goniff was injured. The only one of the group who had gone out and returned acting normal was Casino. Not that he considered Casino to be normal.

Terry carefully removed the green dress and hung it on a hanger off the door of her armoire. She stood and looked at it sadly. It was a pretty dress, or had been at one time. She had hoped to show Actor she had acquired some of his taste in clothing. Now the poor thing hung wrinkled and filthy. Yes, that was showing Actor. Maybe she could salvage it later. She sat on the bed and removed the rest of her clothing, uncharacteristically throwing the pieces in a pile in the corner. Naked, she walked into the bathroom and started a shower.

Picking at the knot of the dressing on her arm did not loosen it. While the water was heating, she went back into the bedroom and pulled open the middle drawer of her desk. Amongst the pencils, pens, paperclips and whatnot was a switchblade. As she opened it, she vaguely realized she was acquiring a collection of the knives like Chief was. Carefully using the sharp blade, she cut the knot loose. With practiced ease, the switchblade was closed one-handedly and returned to the drawer. Returning to the bathroom, she unwound the gauze from her arm. The pad underneath was stuck to the wound. It would just have to soak off.

Terry stepped into the tub and pulled the curtain around before turning the knob to send the warm water cascading over her. She washed her hair first. Somewhere in the process the dressing fell off and blood started trickling down her arm. By the time she had finished washing, it was bleeding at a good clip and was making a mess. She slapped the washcloth over the wound and shut the water off with a slightly bloody hand. After pulling the curtain back, she suddenly felt so very tired. Instead of getting out, she leaned back against the wall and idly watched the blood drops on the far side of the tub slowly work their way down, leaving little trails of red. Damn, couldn't they have a mission where nobody got hurt? It seemed to be getting worse.

Christine entered the bedroom and noted the door was closed to the bathroom, but the water was off. She set the medical supplies on the desk and went to the bathroom door.

"Terry?"

"Yeah?" The voice sounded defeated.

Chris opened the door and stopped short. Her sister was propped against the wall in the tub, washcloth clutched to her right upper arm, blood in small rivulets down her arm, and drops of blood on the tub and the floor.

"Terry!" Chris stepped forward. "Get out of there. I'll help you. You're getting blood everywhere."

Terry straightened and carefully climbed out of the tub, with her sister's hand on her bent elbow. She stood still, clutching the washcloth to her wounded arm while Chris grabbed the bath towel and started drying her off, the younger girl muttering the whole time about the obstinacy in the Garrison family. Christine went and retrieved the sleeveless nightgown from the bed and the two had an awkward time trying to get the gown on without getting more blood everywhere.

Actor tapped lightly on the door to Teresa's bedroom. Concerned when there was no answer, he opened the door and moved inside. The bedroom was empty, the door to the bathroom open and muttering could be heard from inside.

"Teresa?" he asked.

"Actor, you stay right there! Don't you come in here!" Christine's voice was upset.

The Italian heard Terry's chuckle. "Sister, he's seen me in a nightgown more than once. We do live in the same house."

"Oh . . . yeah."

Actor grinned silently and shook his head. Terry padded barefoot into the bedroom to sit cross-legged on the bed with the hem of the gown pulled primly over her knees. Crystal followed and went to stand at the foot of the bed. The con man walked into the bathroom and pulled up short, stepping carefully around blood spots on the floor to get the slightly soiled bath towel. He could have told Teresa before that bathing would set the wound to bleeding, but he knew she would have ignored him. She knew the consequences of mixing movement with water on an open wound from being a nurse. Obstinate.

The Italian carefully left the bathroom with the towel. Chris stood with crossed arms, watching the con man pull a chair up close to the bed and lay out the instruments on the cloth they were wrapped in on the bed in front of the covered knees. He draped the bath towel under Teresa's arm and down her side, patently ignoring the younger woman behind him.

"It's all right, little sister," said Terry in Lakota. "I'm really not his type."

"According to big brother," she returned in the same language, "if it still has a breath left it's his type."

Terry couldn't quite suppress a chuckle.

Actor was drawing up procaine in a syringe at this point. "I trust you are making fun of me again."

"Only a little," admitted Terry. "You do have a reputation you strive to live up to."

Actor shrugged and set the vial of local anesthetic on the night table. He turned to Teresa with exaggerated patience. She cautiously removed the cloth. The wound trickled blood now.

"Chris, I'm perfectly safe. You don't have to stay and stare at him," said Terry. "You could go start dinner," she suggested.

"I guess I'll go start the rabbits," the younger sister said reluctantly. She gave one last sharp look at the back of Actor's head.

"You be good to her," she admonished.

"Christine, I am always good to her," he said casually as Terry grimaced at the needle going into her arm.

"Okay," said Chris, turning and leaving the bedroom.

Actor glanced up at Teresa's face as he waited for the local anesthetic to kick in. Though she was smiling, her eyes did not contain their usual sparkle. Again, he wondered what had gone wrong on this mission, but would wait until the debriefing to find out.

He picked up the forceps and the suture. Terry watched with detached interest as Actor carefully sutured her arm with tiny stitches. "Will you be able to cover the scar with makeup?" she asked. "It's too high to be covered by long gloves."

"I can cover it so it doesn't show," he assured her.

"What about your stitches?" broached Terry. "I assume you'll want to take them out yourself . . . if you haven't already?"

Actor seemed to concentrate on his task. "Two more days before they can be removed." He knew he could remove his own sutures, but it would be awkward and probably painful due to the location. From a physical aspect, he had no secrets from the young woman, and she had approached the cleansing and bandaging of the area professionally, although her cheeks had turned a becoming shade of pink on her first inspection of his 'equipment.' That memory almost brought a smile of amusement to his face, but he was able to contain it. "I am capable of removing them myself," he said. "However, if it does not bother you, it would assuredly be quicker and easier if you did it. If you are uncomfortable with that, I can do it myself."

"I don't have a problem with it," replied Terry with an assurance she didn't feel.

Actor focused on his suturing again. When he had finished, he sprinkled it with sulfa powder and wrapped it. The instruments were folded back up in their cloth covering and set aside with the bloody towel. The towel in a turban around the woman's head had come loose. Not asking permission, Actor took it off and began toweling the wet hair.

Terry opened her mouth to object, then shut it. It was difficult to dry her long hair with one hand. The confidence man seemed to have no problem doing it for her.

"I'm not used to being taken care of," said Terry quietly.

"Payback," said Actor casually. "I am not used to being taken care of either."

Terry gave a small grin. "You do a good job of it."

"As do you."

He finished drying her hair down to dampness and helped her get situated in the bed, pulling the covers over her. "Go to sleep," he said. "You can dream about roast rabbit."

"And mashed potatoes with gravy and chocolate éclairs."

"I don't think the éclairs will be there," he said in amusement.

"It's my dream," she retorted as she snuggled down into the bed.

Actor picked up the towels and the instrument packet, taking them into the bathroom and putting them in the sink. He glanced around at the blood. Christine would have a mess to clean up later. Teresa was already asleep when he emerged from the bathroom. He paused to study her. Why couldn't she stay at the Mansion and keep house and care for them? Why did she have to go on the missions? It wasn't safe. However, if she did confine herself to staying in England, he would lose her as a partner on their cons. And he had to admit he enjoyed working with her. She was becoming very good. Ah, well. He was also learning Teresa would do what Teresa wanted to do. So stubborn, just like her brother. He picked his cane up from the foot of her bed and shut the door silently behind him when he left the bedroom.

Actor stepped down the hall to check on Goniff. The pickpocket was asleep on his back. Actor thought he was even paler than his normal blond English complexion. Watching cautiously, the con man carefully folded the blanket back off the injured shoulder. The dressing was clean and dry. Satisfied, Actor returned the blanket to where it had been and eased back into the hallway.

He passed Terry's door and made his way down the stairs. Chief was sprawled in the big chair by the window, toying with his switchblade. His dark eyes followed the Italian to his chair, watching the tall man set aside his cane and reach for his pipe.

"Terry okay?" asked the younger man.

"She seems to be," replied Actor, resting back in his chair, beginning the ritual of packing his pipe. "Where is the Warden?"

"Well, he's locked himself up in his office again."

Actor shook his head. The man never seemed to learn when to slow down. Sighing, he set his pipe and pouch of tobacco on the side table. With a grimace, he rose from his chair and went to tap a knuckle quietly on the closed door to the office. There was no answer. Cautiously, he opened the door and peered inside. Garrison was at his desk, head on crossed arms, sound asleep. Actor shook his head again and beckoned Chief to come. The Indian rose and came to stand beside him.

"Shall we?" asked Actor.

"Might as well," replied Chief, not wanting to be the one to awaken the Warden.

Actor moved over beside the sleeping man and gently laid a hand on the near shoulder. "Lieutenant?"

Garrison's head came up with a jerk, instantly recognizing it was Actor and not a foe, and dropped his head down in tired relief. He noted Chief was in the doorway.

"You are not helping yourself any, Warden," said Actor kindly. "Let's get you upstairs and to bed. You will do much better with your report after a little sleep."

"Terry okay?" Craig asked, not yet resisting the hand under his arm, helping him to his feet.

"Teresa is fine," assured Actor. "She is sleeping like you should be."

Craig gathered himself, stepped firmly away from the older man and headed for the door. Chief backed out and the two cons flanked the officer from behind, following him to the stairs.

"I can do this myself," said Garrison ruefully aware his men had caught him in a moment of weakness.

"Sure you can, Warden," said Chief with a grin to Actor.

The con man smiled. "We are just here in case you need assistance."

This earned him a glare from his leader. As they started up the stairs, Chris came out of the kitchen and paused, looking up at them. Actor returned her gaze with his usual unreadable expression. Chris looked dubiously at him, turned and went back to the kitchen.

The two cons left Garrison at his room as he firmly shut his door in their faces.

"Guess he don't need any help," grinned Chief.

Actor grinned back at him. "Apparently not."

The two turned and went back downstairs, satisfied they had gotten the Warden to his room where he belonged.


	8. Chapter 8

Training Part 8

Casino felt a little better after his sleep, a long stretch eased the kinks out of sore muscles. He would have rolled over and gone back to sleep, but his stomach growled. He was hungry and hoped one of the girls had made some supper. Putting on the olive drab pants and shirt the Army provided, he strolled down the upstairs hall. Facing Terry's room, he saw the door was closed. The bag with the money was in her room. Normally, he wouldn't have any second thoughts about entering and getting it, but the closed door meant she was in there and didn't want to be disturbed, otherwise the door would be open, inviting visitors. He wondered if she knew the money was in her bag yet. A grin crossed his face when he remembered the little green hat with the hole in it.

Continuing on, Casino bounded down the stairs, glanced in acknowledgement at the confidence man and the Indian and made for the kitchen. The aroma of roasting rabbit met him at the door. Good, there was meat tonight. The kitchen was clean with wet dishes stacked on a towel on the sink to dry. As he stood there, the back door opened and Christine walked in carrying the empty scrap bucket for the chickens.

"Hey Sister, that smells good," said Casino nodding toward the oven. "When we eatin'?"

"Thank you," the younger woman replied with a smile. "In about an hour. Can you hold out until then?" she teased.

"I 'spose I can make it," grumbled the safecracker, the twinkle in his eye offsetting the tone.

Chris shook her head behind his back as he went back towards the common room. The man was mouthy, but he didn't seem like a bad man.

The not so bad man took a seat at the game table and picked up a deck of cards. As he shuffled, he asked, "Where's the Warden?"

Actor looked up from his book. "He slept a few hours, wrote his report and went to debrief with Major Schaeffer."

"That oughta take some explainin'," said Casino sarcastically, laying out a solitaire game.

Not long later, a quiet Goniff made his way down the stairs, clad in the same olive drab pants and shirt as Casino, left arm in a sling. Chief silently got up and moved over to sit in the window, nodding with his head at the chair he had just vacated. Goniff took it, gratefully.

"How yuh doin', Limey?" asked Casino.

"Better'n I was," replied Goniff. "Next time let Terry take care of me, Mate. She isn't so heavy handed."

Casino tossed an ace above the spread of cards and eyed the Englishman. "Terry decided she wanted to drive. Tell her."

"How's she?" asked Goniff.

"The wound is clean. It should be fine," replied Actor offhandedly.

"Warden's back." That pronouncement from Chief ended that conversation. The men watched their lookout expectantly.

"He got a briefcase?" Casino finally asked.

"Yeah, but it ain't handcuffed."

The men relaxed and went back to what they were doing. Garrison entered the foyer and looked at his four men as he walked to his office.

"How are you feeling, Goniff?" asked Craig solicitously.

"Oh, I think I need some time off, Warden," said Goniff dramatically. "You don't think we could get a two week leave in the States now, do yuh?"

Garrison smiled. "No Goniff I don't think we can."

"No mission, hey Lieutenant?" piped up Casino.

"Not unless it's just you and me," Garrison fired back at him, disappearing in his office with a shake of his head.

A squeal of outrage sounded from the second floor. There was dead silence in the downstairs common room as all eyes looked to the stairs. Garrison even came back to the door of his office to see what had affected his sister to that extent. Chris hurried from the kitchen to stand at the base of the stairs. Only Casino had an inkling of what had upset the young woman and it brought a grin to his face. Terry appeared on the stairs, her new green felt hat with the flat brim and jaunty dyed feather held aloft atop her fist, with her forefinger sticking up through a hole in the top. Her face was screwed up in angry frustration.

"Those bloody, blasted, bleedin' Krauts shot a hole through my hat!" she sputtered in impotent rage.

Craig stared at her, trying to maintain his composure, but it dissolved into laughter that was echoing from the four men in the common room. He had never seen his sister so upset about a piece of clothing, especially a hat of all things. She never wore hats, except to work on the ranch and that was different.

"It's not funny!" Terry shot a hurt look of betrayal at her chortling brother. "I never had a hat before. I only got to wear it once. Now it's shot."

This just made Garrison and the men laugh harder. As usual, it was Actor who was the gallant rescuer. He levered himself out of his chair and walked over to the stairs, looking up at the young woman with a sympathetic smile.

"Let me see it, Teresa," he coaxed, holding his hand up.

Terry calmed down and handed it to him over the railing. The laughter behind him settled down as he examined the damage to the hat. He smiled up at the girl.

"I believe it can be repaired. The next time we go to London I will take it to a woman I know. She owns a millinery shop. . . "

"And she is one of the great beauties of the world," piped up Casino in dramatically accented English that sounded more Romanian than Roman.

Actor's head slowly turned around toward the safecracker with set lips and narrowed eyes. Terry almost choked, trying to keep from laughing. She wasn't about to antagonize the Italian when he was trying to help.

"Yes, she is," said Actor with forced calmness. "And of a higher class than the type of women you consort with."

Oh, God. Garrison had to step back inside his office and ease the door shut so he could indulge in stifled laughter that would have encouraged Casino and enraged his second. It was getting harder and harder to maintain a staunch, military discipline with that crazy group of men he had. And his sister wasn't helping.

"Well, la-te-dah, Your Highness," replied Casino snottily.

Actor deliberately and slowly turned his back to the room with Casino grinning broadly, Goniff snickering, and Chief fighting a grin. He smiled up at Teresa. The young woman looked down at him with lips pursed tightly together in a small smile and eyes overly wide and bright.

"Just put the hat aside and I will see that it is taken care of when I can get to London again," advised Actor politely.

"Thank you, Actor. I appreciate that," returned Terry just as politely.

Chris thought the whole bunch had a screw or two loose. It was the first time she had seen her sister come unglued over a piece of frivolous clothing and the first time she had seen the teasing over Actor's women. As her sister headed back to her bedroom, Chris called out, "Supper's ready."

GGGGG

After supper, Terry went back to her room while the men stayed in the downstairs common room. Her duffle bag was lying on the bed. She had only gotten as far as the hat in unpacking. Now she sat down on the bed and removed the makeup kit, setting it aside and reaching in for her other dress. Instead of soft material, her fingers encountered the cold hard metal of the little gun. She took it out and turned it over in her hand. It was compact and lighter than what she was used to. Terry removed the clip, emptied the remaining bullets and ejected the one in the chamber. These were placed in a small pile next to her makeup kit. The gun went into her trouser pocket. Again she reached in for the cream gown only this time her fingers came in contact with neat paper bundles.

A canary eating grin crossed her face as she pulled out bundle upon bundle of banded French currency. Casino had made a haul. Terry sat and counted the total amount of money and began carefully dividing it into three piles. Not bad. It almost made getting shot worth it. Almost. Exchanged, Terry would be able to buy meat on the Black Market and have some left over for her bank account in London.

The dress was eventually exhumed and hung back in the armoire. The makeup kit went into the bathroom and the duffle bag into one of the hall closets. Two loose boards in the floor were removed and one pile of money went into a box hidden under the floorboards. The other two piles of money were distributed to their owners' rooms.

Terry came downstairs to the common room. Chris was ensconced in Actor's chair. The con man and the other three men were engaged in a poker game at the table. Casino was surprised when Terry slipped an arm around his neck and bent with her mouth next to his ear.

"There's a present for you on your bed. I put Goniff's on his. Nice take," she whispered conspiratorially into his ear.

"Thanks, Babe," said the safecracker, pushing chips into the growing colored pile in the center of the table.

Terry straightened and moved to the doorway of Craig's office.

"Hey, Brother, what do you know about this little gem?" she asked removing the gun from her pocket and holding it up for him to see.

"Where'd you get that?" frowned Garrison from his desk.

"Off that dead general," replied Terry. "It's a little light for my taste, but it fits good and it does the job. It's not a Luger, that's for sure."

Craig got up from his chair and started around the desk. Actor looked up from the game table with curiosity.

"What have you got there?" asked the con man.

Terry turned and tossed the gun to him. Actor caught it with a startled look that turned to anger.

"Teresa! Do not ever throw a semi-automatic weapon! There might be a round in the chamber! Dropped or handled wrong, it could go off." He ejected the empty clip.

"There isn't one in the chamber," said Terry in annoyance. "I took it out before I brought it down here."

Actor turned the gun around and inspected it before holding it in his palm. It was engulfed in his large hand. "It is a 9mm Walther PPK. Probably 1938. A German officer's personal gun. You removed it from an officer?"

"Yes," Terry nodded.

Craig walked up to his second. Actor handed the gun to him. Garrison studied the gun, turning it around in his hand before gripping it. It fit his hand a little better, but as his sister had said, it was too light.

"Nice lady's gun," the officer remarked.

"Hey, let's see it, Warden," said Goniff out of curiosity.

The gun was passed around the table.

"What about the ammo?" asked Terry. "We don't have that."

"The Canadians and British do," said Actor. "I am sure we will come across some of the German on the Continent. You must be sure to clean the gun well with soap and water after you use the German ammunition. It is highly corrosive."

"Hey, you gonna play or run off at the mouth? It's your turn," said Casino, not wanting the Italian to know he found the lesson interesting.

Actor turned to the safecracker with a look of disgust. "Casino, you are a clod."

"Yeah, yeah, so you always say. Put up or shut up."

Actor took a brief look at his cards and pushed a large pile of chips to the center of the table with a smirky smile. Chief and Goniff threw their cards down with exasperation. Casino just smiled back at the con man and pushed an equal amount of chips into his.

Terry took the gun back from Goniff, looking up when Craig tapped her shoulder.

"Come into my office," he invited.

Terry tucked the gun into her pocket again as she followed her brother into his office and shut the door behind them. "I don't know why Goniff and Chief continue to play cards with those two," she said, "they both cheat."

Chuckling, Craig went behind his desk and opened the bottom drawer, taking out the bottle of bourbon and two glasses.

"Want one?" he asked.

"If you're serving, sure," grinned Terry, hiking a hip up on the corner of his desk.

Garrison poured two drinks, handed one to his sister and they touched glasses before sipping the strong liquor.

Garrison's voice was casual. "So how much was the take?"

"Huh?" asked Terry in surprise. "How did you know?"

"Come on," said Craig with a grin. "I found him in another room. There was a floor safe in it. And he was just a little wider than when I sent him up to copy the papers. Suddenly he's his normal width. He isn't going to put it in my bag, so it had to have ended up in yours."

Terry burst out laughing. Casino should have known he couldn't pull one over on her brother. "Thirty thousand francs," she admitted. "Not a bad little haul split three ways."

"That's how you do it?" asked Craig with interest. "So the two that weren't along don't get any of it?" He had figured that was the case.

"Oh, once in awhile they cut me in on it. But they figure I take care of them so it's their way of taking care of me."

"So how much have you taken in so far?" asked her brother with more than idle curiosity.

Terry shrugged. "Enough to let me buy food from the black market." And a whole lot more, she thought, not that she intended to tell Craig that. She was probably hauling in more money in one take than his Lieutenant's salary was in a year. "You know they'd cut you in if you'd let them."

"Can't do that," said Craig.

"Why not?" asked Terry curiously.

"Because I'm their boss. I can't be one of them," he replied. "Besides, if the army did find out I was on the take so to speak . . ." He left it at that.

Terry shrugged her eyebrows. "Too bad, Brother."

Garrison was interested now. "So how do you exchange it to pounds?"

"The francs and the lira aren't too bad," replied Terry. "Now the Deutsche Marks are another matter. We let Actor handle that. We don't know how or where he does it, but he seems to be giving us an honest deal."

"Honor among thieves?" asked Craig with a grin.

"Something like that," laughed Terry.

Craig sobered. "I saw Actor 'acquire' a necklace once that was worth five years of my pay," he said somewhat disgustedly.

Terry nodded. "I'm sure. But you didn't join the Army for the great pay incentives did you?"

"No," agreed Craig with a sigh, "just sometimes . . ."

"Larceny pays better?" offered his sister. "It may pay good for awhile, but they've all been in prison more than once; Actor included. I think it's a badge of honor with them . . . how many prisons they've been in. You were very lucky you were never caught in Rome, especially at the tender young age you were when you were learning. And I wouldn't be telling them that either. Keep them thinking you're that clean cut Army poster boy."

"Actor knows," said Craig.

Terry looked at him sharply. "You told him?"

"No," said Craig, "but he's remarked a number of times the Army didn't teach me what I know."

"Know what's scary?" said Terry. "You and he could be a good team."

"Know what's scarier?" shot Craig back. "You and he could be an even better one."

"Maybe," admitted Terry. "I have to admit, it's addicting . . . the game, the adrenalin rush. It's fine now when it's for a just cause, but as a regular thing? No. There are a lot of rich, stupid people out there asking to be fleeced, but I couldn't do it."

"You better be careful. Actor just might try to talk you into it when the war's over," predicted Garrison.

"I don't think so," replied Terry was a shake of her head. "I think he knows better."

"I think maybe he knows us better than we even give him credit for," said Craig.

"You may be right there, Brother."

Garrison eyed his sister. He had seen her hitch her arm uncomfortably. A split second either way when Casino shot the German officer and Terry could have come out of it either unscathed or dead. At least Casino had gotten his shot off faster than he had. He felt bad and at fault that the pickpocket had received a more serious wound. Focusing back on Terry, he felt she was taking it all too calmly.

"You ready to debrief?" he asked her.

"Might as well get it over with," replied the girl.

She got up and dragged the chair in front of Craig's desk closer to the table as her brother went to the door.

"Debrief."

"Aw come on, Warden! Not now. I gotta win my money back. Beautiful's cheatin'."

Garrison looked drolly at the safecracker's back and the sparkle in the eyes of the con man's inscrutable face. "Sorry, Casino, I can't help it if he cheats better than you do." He heard a short, suppressed snort of laughter from the table behind him.

"Oh, no!" denied the safecracker adamantly. "I play cards better than he does."

"Then how come you're losin'?" said Chief quietly.

"Butt out, Indian!" Casino rose from his chair at the same time as Chief.

"Casino! Office! Now!" Obviously the mission had not worn him out, thought Craig, turning back into his office.

Actor carefully pushed his chair back and waited until Casino had gone through the doorway before levering himself up. As he reached for his silver handled cane, he speculated this was going to be an interesting debriefing. Goniff was subdued for Goniff. Teresa was not totally herself, but he could not put his finger on what the difference was. The Warden was tired and trying not to show it. The con man followed the other men into the office and pulled a chair out beside Teresa. He would have liked to cross his legs on the table, but the pull on his abdomen would not have been comfortable and Teresa was developing a habit of backhanding any of them who dared put their feet on the table in her presence. Instead, he stretched his legs out under the table and crossed his ankles.

The young woman leaned toward him and Actor bent closer to hear her whispered question. "Marked deck?"

"Of course," he whispered back superiorly.

He didn't look for her smile, but felt a light pat of approval on his leg.

Garrison scanned the table. He wasn't looking forward to this debriefing. Actor and Chief obviously wanted to hear what had happened or they might not have bothered to join them. It was funny how they all staked their territory at the table; office and dining room. Actor always took the opposite end of the table from him, Terry on one side or the other of the confidence man. Chief was always to Craig's right and Goniff to his left. Casino was at the far end beside Goniff. There were definite psychological ramifications to their choices, but Craig did not have Actor's penchant for delving into the psyche.

"Going in," Garrison started.

"We hadda jump outta an airplane again," grumbled Casino immediately.

Goniff turned to his buddy and said a tad sarcastically, "'Ard to get a submarine up to Paris."

"I'm just sayin' . . . "

"You've said it," interrupted Craig. "Safe houses?"

"First one was okay as far as safe houses go," remarked Terry. "The second one was better."

"'Course it was," said Goniff in amusement. "It was a bleedin' rich 'otel."

Garrison focused eyes on his sister. "I think you took too many chances going out in Paris and especially with that tail."

Terry shook her head. "I disagree. I had to play the part of a wealthy young matron. What young French woman with unlimited funds is _not _going to go shopping for new clothes in Paris?"

"I suggested that plan and what shops to visit, Lieutenant," said Actor, backing up the girl.

"Okay," said Craig, giving deference to the con man's wisdom. He looked hard at Terry. "But you took too big a risk talking to the tails like you did."

"Uhn uh," Terry shook her head. "If we had made a point of giving them a wide berth or totally ignoring them, they would have wondered why. I don't think they were being lousy tails, I think they wanted us to know they were watching us. It wasn't the time to act scared or they would have wondered what we were hiding." She leaned forward and returned Craig's look. "The Girards didn't get rich by being stupid," she said. "Okay, maybe a little gullible playing footsy with the Krauts, but not stupid."

Craig wanted to shoot her down out of fear at what she had done, but he had to admit, she was right. And Actor's eyes watching him were saying the confidence man agreed with Terry. Damn, she was learning Actor's trade quickly and well.

Christine walked in just then, breaking the impasse between brother and sister. The younger girl glanced around at the silent men and woman, knowing somehow she had just stepped into something she probably didn't want to know about. She set two bowls on the table that contained grapes from the marketplace and some early wild strawberries from on the estate.

"Sorry," she apologized meekly. "I thought you guys might want to nibble on something." She backed toward the door.

"Thank you Christine," said Actor. "That was very considerate of you."

She flashed a quick smile at him and retreated from the room.

Garrison continued on, turning to his larcenous safecracker. "And just how did you end up in a different room with a convenient safe and two guards in the hall?"

Casino pulled a hurt face at the accusatory tone of Garrison's voice and reiterated what had transpired on the second floor of the villa. At the end, seeing that the lieutenant's somewhat stony countenance had not changed any, the safecrackers shrugged and grinned. "You only said I couldn't take money from the safe in the general's office. Yuh didn't say nothin' about any other safe."

They were incorrigible, thought Craig. Three of them at least. Goniff would steal his grandmother's gold teeth if he thought he could get away with it. Actor had almost as hard of a time passing up antiques as he did women. Casino couldn't pass up a safe. The three of them were teaching Chief to be just like them. And his sister was learning a little too much from the confidence man.

"I gotta complaint," said Casino predictably. He decided to turn the Warden's attention somewhere else.

"What, Casino?" asked Garrison with exaggerated patience.

"Do we hafta let your sister drive? That was a long walk."

Thunk. The safecracker rubbed his ear and looked down at the grape that was rolling on the table. There were chuckles around him. Casino looked across the table at the mischievous grin on Terry's face.

"Hey, I got us out of there, didn't I?" She reached for a strawberry and popped it into her mouth.

"'Ey, she's got good aim too, eh Mate?"

"The last time you complained about riding in the car with me," lamented Terry. "Now you're complaining because you had to walk. Make up your mind."

Children . . . they were all overgrown children. Well, not Actor, but he had his own way of being aggravating. "Knock it off," said Garrison sternly. His attention went back to Terry. "Why _did_ you drive?"

Terry looked askance at him. "You and Casino were on Goniff and we had to move quickly. So I moved." She looked at Casino. "Would you have known where that trail was? Or would you rather I tried to run a sandbagged roadblock? You could have asked to switch places with me when Craig went to check it out."

"I figured you'd just bite my head off if I asked," shot back the safecracker.

"Your head's too big for that," retorted Terry.

"For the last time, knock it off!" demanded Garrison.

Casino sat sullenly back. Terry leaned back in her seat and shifted her arm. Her eyes moved to the Indian beside her.

"You're too quiet," said Terry.

Dark eyes watched her and Casino. "Got nuthin' to say. Can't get a word in anyway. Besides, I wasn't there."

It was the smartest thing he had heard from this table so far, thought Craig.

"I didn't like this whole caper, Warden." Now Goniff started. "We was stretched too thin. It felt wrong from the beginnin' it did."

"I gotta agree with that one," said Casino as Terry nodded. Something had been bothering the safecracker and he had pushed it to the back of his mind. Now it popped forward. "Look, I know things got screwed up upstairs. I ain't sayin' that's my fault," he added quickly and defensively. "If I had been able to get down and go out with you, Warden, they might not have gotten hurt."

Before Craig could answer that, Terry spoke calmly and seriously. "No, Casino, you're wrong. Think about it. Remember what happened to the other couples? If the three of us had met Goniff at the car together like we were supposed to, what would have happened?" She didn't give him time to answer. "You getting into a tight spot that made Craig go look for you screwed up their plans for us. If you and Craig hadn't come up behind the Krauts, we would all be dead right now. I can't talk for Goniff because he's hurt worse than me, but I'm glad things got screwed up. Hurt is a whole lot better than being six feet under or dumped in the woods somewhere."

"That's right, Mate," seconded Goniff. "Ain't your fault Terry got 'it any more'n it's the Warden's fault I got 'it."

Casino shrugged. "Now that you put it that way . . . yeah."

Actor's face showed nothing, but his eyes moved from one to the other of the people who had gone on the mission. Now he understood a few things. It was a safe bet that the Lieutenant and Casino were feeling guilty the other two had been shot. Terry had figured out in either scenario, she could have been killed. Goniff was correct. Four of them on this caper meant they had been spread too thin. Goniff had been at the car by himself for a long time without any of them checking up on him. Always a nervous man, being alone always made him worse. Teresa had obviously been with her brother. They were capable of backing each other up. That was providing Teresa had been armed, which judging from the dress she had worn, she hadn't been. Casino had been required to go after the information in the safe without any backup. There had been a foul up as usual, maybe or maybe not his fault. All four must have misgivings about what had happened.

This time Casino questioned Garrison accusingly. "Hey, Warden, you tellin' us the Brass didn't have a clue the Krauts was plannin' on bumpin' us off?"

"Yeah, what about that, Warden?" chimed in Goniff.

Terry looked at her brother with suspicion. "Don't tell me this was one of Col. Yates' brilliant missions again?"

Garrison shook his head. "Not this time. It was Gen. Fremont's." He looked at his two men. "I don't know if they knew or not. I wasn't told anything about that. And, even if I had been briefed on that, we would have still gone in."

"It might have made a difference in the planning," broached Actor wryly.

"I swear they're tryin' to bump us off," continued Casino, as suspicious of all the high ranking officers as he was of cops and prison wardens.

Chief reached for some grapes. "Feels like it sometimes."

"Okay, that's enough," said Garrison. Secretly he agreed with all of them. He moved the meeting on to break up that line of thought. "Transport out?"

"Fancy meetin' that Aussie bloke flyin' the plane," chirped Goniff.

Casino shot a devious grin at Terry. "Yeah, I think he's got the hots for yuh, Babe."

"Oh, knock it off," replied the woman in disgust.

"Yes, well, you keep a lid on your boyfriend," ordered Craig.

"Don't you start now," shot back Terry. "He's not my boyfriend. He just comes to the bar."

"Yeah, all the way from London," teased Casino. He loved getting the girl's dander up.

Actor looked questioningly at Teresa. "The Australian from the Fox?"

Terry nodded. "Yeah, Royce was wing commander on the plane out."

Actor kept his thoughts on that subject to himself. So the RAAF officer was based outside of London. That was a long way to travel just for a drink in a friendly American pub. He wondered what Royce's motives actually were. It never occurred to the Italian to wonder why that thought bothered him.

"Anybody have anything else to add?" asked Garrison.

Nobody did, so the meeting broke up. Chief and Goniff left first. Terry and Casino followed, the safecracker continuing to tease the young woman about her erstwhile 'boyfriend.'

Garrison watched his second slowly start to rise from his chair. He needed to talk, and the older man had proved to be easy to talk to. Actor seemed to enjoy their conversations also and had proved he could be trusted to keep the content to himself.

"Care to join me for a drink?" broached the lieutenant.

Actor lowered himself back into his chair with a smile. "Of course, Warden." He wondered what the conversation was going to be about and had a feeling he knew.


	9. Chapter 9

Training Part 9

Garrison went back to his desk and got a clean shot glass from his drawer. He came back to the table with two glasses and the bottle and poured a shot for each of them. Oh, he was doing well, two drinks in an hour. As he pushed a glass to the confidence man, Actor lifted a lower leg up onto the table. Craig watched the grimace as the older man tried to bring the other leg up with a hand under his knee. Automatically, Garrison caught Actor's ankle and eased the leg up beside the other one.

"Thank you, Warden," said Actor with relief. He tilted the chair back on its hind legs and crossed his ankles getting comfortable.

Garrison went to his door and silently locked it. The Italian, in the meantime, had taken two cigarettes from the pack in his pocket, stuck them between his lips and lit them both. As the lieutenant passed by on his way back, Actor held one out to him. Craig accepted it with a nod of thanks and sat down in Terry's chair, facing the con man. Actor lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head back toward the door questioningly.

"Keep Terry out," explained Garrison. "You aren't moving fast enough yet to dodge her if she comes in and catches you like this."

"Good thinking," acknowledged Actor with a crooked grin.

The two raised their glasses in a toast and took a sip of whiskey. They smoked in companionable quiet for a bit. Garrison wasn't ready to broach what was on his mind, so he nodded toward the con man.

"How is the injury coming?" he asked.

"Quite well," replied Actor. "Teresa will remove the stitches tomorrow."

"I imagine that will be a relief," remarked Craig, well aware of the discomfort of having them in for any length of time.

"Yes," agreed Actor. He grinned devilishly. "It is a most inconvenient place to itch."

Both men chuckled. Craig aimed a calculating look at his second. "Where'd you learn Savate?"

The calculating look was returned, and for a moment Craig thought he would not answer that. "I would imagine the same places you learned . . . Paris and Rome."

"Probably not the same time," said Garrison cautiously.

"Probably not." The confidence man took a couple slow puffs on his cigarette and a sip of liquor. "Something seems to be troubling you, Warden." He gave the younger man the opportunity to open up, or deny it as he wished.

"Terry."

Of course, thought Actor. "In general, or on this mission particularly?"

"Both."

Actor waited. When nothing more was forthcoming, the confidence man figured he would have to carefully draw the lieutenant out. "You voiced some concerns regarding Teresa's actions on this mission."

"She's getting too cocky," said Garrison with a frown.

"Cocky or confident?"

"I don't know. Both?" Craig took a long drag on his cigarette and concentrated on rolling the shot glass between his thumb and forefinger.

Actor studied him behind a look of casual interest. "From what I heard at the debriefing, it seemed her reasoning and actions were sound."

"It's like she suddenly knows what to do," said Garrison dubiously. "That all your doing?"

Actor reached his hand with the cigarette behind his head and scratched his hair with a cocking of his head as he thought about it. "As much as I would like to take credit for it, I do not believe it is all my teaching." If he didn't know better, he would think the girl was learning on her own. And maybe he _didn't_ know better.

"I would like very much to put Terry and Chris on a transport plane back to the States. Unfortunately, that isn't going to happen. The powers that be who sanctioned our group have decided Terry is an asset and worth the risk to herself. And our father in Washington is backing it." Craig paused, watching the con's reaction.

Actor's face was thoughtful as he digested this bit of information. He understood only too well how a father could dictate what a child should and would do with his life. It was one thing with a son, but the Italian wondered how a father could justify in his mind, sending a daughter into a war situation and allowing the under aged one to remain in London, working with whatever underground Christine was connected to. The other thing that struck the con man was this was the second time the young lieutenant had discussed something of a family nature with him. It must be weighing heavily on the man.

"I am under the impression it is against the law for a woman to go into combat in the military," he said carefully.

"It is," affirmed Craig. "But then, it's probably against the law to pull four convicts from Federal prisons to do covert operations. It's also against the rules to impersonate an enemy soldier, but we do it all the time."

"I see your point, Warden," Actor said slowly. "The army likes the results, but they will probably never acknowledge their methods."

"That about covers it." He paused. "There's another problem," said Craig, deciding he needed to open up on a more personal level. "I know my sister. She has said a number of times if I remove her from the Mansion and the team, she will go to France and join the underground. She'll do it." He looked up at the older man. "How long do you think she would last?"

Actor looked the younger officer in the eye. "At the risk of sounding arrogant, Warden . . ." He gave a crooked grin, "Which I freely admit I am . . . without us watching her back . . . not very long."

"I agree." Garrison chewed on his lower lip for a moment. "I feel like I am taking unfair advantage of the four of you. She is my sister after all. However, I do trust that you are watching out for her."

"We have been," acknowledge the con man, "and as long as she is with us, we will continue to do so. The bottom line being she will continue to be with us and go on missions?"

"Looks that way," Craig looked carefully at the older man, "Unless we can get her to quit."

Actor did not think the odds of that were any too high, but it was a thought, and one with possibilities. The next question to _himself_ was – did he really want to stop working the missions with her? She was becoming a very good partner. The episode with the near rape seemed to be behind her. Teresa no longer had qualms about flirting with a German officer if it was advantageous to their con. Her confidence in her abilities had grown tremendously, though she still deferred to his greater expertise. On the other hand, Teresa, like the four men in the group had become a friend. Did he really want to admit to that? Did he really want that? He had learned the hard way that 'friends' could not be trusted, male or female. Yet he trusted Garrison and the other cons. And he trusted Teresa. He gave himself a mental shake. He would have to think about this later, when he was alone.

Garrison had been sitting silently watching his second. Actor had disappeared behind his inscrutable mask and gone somewhere Craig couldn't follow. Just as suddenly as he had disappeared, Actor was back with his patent smile.

"Is that what you wish us to do, Warden?" the con man asked. "Do you wish us to attempt to get Teresa to quit the missions?"

Craig shook his head. "I don't know. I'm afraid she'll run and then she will get herself killed."

"Then I would say we are at an impasse," said the Italian.

"I would say the same," replied Garrison.

Somehow, Actor knew the Lieutenant would not leave it at that. Teresa could be volatile and she did not have the military discipline of her brother. If there was a confrontation, it could very easily get out of control. Actor did not want to see that happen, but was in no position to stop it. His loyalty by default must rest with the Lieutenant.

GGGGG

Terry and Casino were just coming down the stairs when the two men emerged from Garrison's office. Craig looked at his sister questioningly.

"Goniff was getting tired," said Terry. "Casino and I helped him get settled for the night."

"I will check the wound in the morning," said Actor. He frowned at the girl. "You should probably be wearing a sling when you are up. How is your arm?"

"It's okay," replied Terry. "Casino did most of the helping. A sling would be in the way. You stitched it, so I'm not worried about it coming apart."

"Yeah, well you ain't helpin' it any," shot Casino at her. "Just take it easy, Babe. You got . . ." he looked around and shrugged, "well, two of us to help you."

"Excuse me?" a feminine voice said with umbrage from Actor's chair. "What am I? Useless?"

Aw crap, thought Casino. He tried to help one Garrison girl and annoyed the other. He looked askance at the Warden, but the lieutenant had an amused expression on his face and sure wasn't about to help. Neither was the darned Italian for that matter.

"I just meant, Chris, you made that great dinner an' all, and did the dishes, and, well, you deserve a rest." Casino figured he had handled that well.

Christine looked at her older sister. "Should I accept that?" she asked.

Terry nodded. "Yeah, I would. That was pretty good for him."

The safecracker's head jerked around to stare at Terry's impish grin.

"Just teasin', Babe," she said.

"Yeah, sure," replied Casino in disgust. He looked at Actor. "How about some poker? You need to give me a chance to get my money back. 'Specially since you were cheatin'."

Actor gave a good imitation yawn. "I am feeling a bit fatigued myself. I think I will go to my room. I have a book I wish to finish reading."

"Terrific," said Casino. It figured the con man wouldn't give him a chance. He wondered how Actor had been cheating. He hadn't seen him dealing off the bottom or any of the usual tricks. He turned his attention to Chief. He could always clean house with the Indian.

Chief was just shakin' his head. "You got all my money this afternoon." He continued innocently, "Now if you wanna play some darts upstairs . . ."

"I ain't that crazy, Indian," said Casino. He turned to Garrison. "Warden? . . . naw, never mind." Garrison's expression was boding no interest in that kind of nonsense. 'Sides, the Warden never joined in their games.

Actor hobbled past Casino and Terry and started up the stairs. Garrison went back into his office. Chief remained in his chair, playing with his switchblade.

Terry looked at her sister. "You want to come up and see what you think about that dress? I'm not sure we can fix it."

"Sure," replied the younger girl. "Nice dress by the way."

The two girls went up the stairs behind Actor. Casino put his hands on his hips and looked around. Figured everyone just left him standin' there. With a sigh, he went to the game table and sat down to shuffle the cards for another game of solitaire.

GGGGG

The next morning, right after breakfast, Actor went back to his room and Terry went to get the suture removal set. She gave him some time to get himself situated and knocked on the closed door. At his call to come in, she slipped inside and closed the door behind her. When she turned, she stopped and stared, at once amused, relieved and a bit disappointed.

Actor was casually reclined against the headboard. His shirt was rolled up on his chest. The blankets were over him except for the dressing on his hip and groin. Everything else was discreetly covered. He watched her reaction with an amused smile.

She returned the smile benignly. "I see you're ready for me."

Unable to help himself, one dark eyebrow lifted and Actor's eyes moved to his nether region.

"To remove the sutures," added Terry drolly.

"Ah, yes," he replied. "More than ready."

He watched her take a seat next him on the bed and open the suture set on the chair beside them. Her movements were slow and deliberate. Using a fingernail to start loosening the tape at the top of the dressing, she carefully peeled it back. One piece of tape was stuck in hair. Carefully, Terry clipped close to the skin to free the tape.

Her smile widened. "Don't worry, I won't cut anything vital."

"You are too kind," he parried back.

Changing to a business manner, Terry began carefully removing the tight stitches. As she slowly worked her way down, Actor had to now stifle an insane urge to scratch where they had come out. She was halfway done when there came a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" asked Actor, afraid it might be the younger sister.

"Goniff."

"Come in," called Actor.

Terry kept on with her work as the pickpocket edged over to her shoulder and looked to see what she was doing. It was the first time Goniff had actually seen the wound.

"Blimey, Actor, a little farther and it woulda caught the family jewels there," said the Englishman, impressed.

"It did," replied Actor.

"By the way," said Terry, "how is that?"

"Fine," replied Actor. "Completely healed."

Terry continued removing stitches. When Goniff leaned over her shoulder, she and Actor looked at him dubiously.

"Looks like you lost some 'air there."

Terry turned her head back to concentrate on what she was doing and avoid the eyes of both men.

"It would appear," said Actor, watching the girl's face.

Goniff looked at the dressing on the chair and saw where the missing hair was. "Ow!"

Actor watched Terry stifle a chuckle.

"That's what happens when you tease her," said the Italian deadpan.

The astonished look that Goniff gave the back of the girl's head was priceless. As was the wide eyed look on Teresa.

"She used scissors," Actor reassured the Englishman.

" I bleedin' 'ope so!" said Goniff with feeling.

Actor talked to Goniff about mundane things until Terry was finished. She gathered up her instruments and the dressing and pulled the covers over the rest of him.

"I will come to your room in a minute," said Actor, "and change the dressing on your arm. You and Christine are off to London aren't you?"

"Yes," replied Terry. "Off to find my properly bribable butcher."

She let herself out the door. Goniff waited until she had gone before asking. "She took care of all of it?"

"Yes," replied Actor, pulling his trousers up under the covers and sneakily rubbing the suture line with relief. "She has been very professional."

"I guess," said Goniff. "But her cheeks do turn a lovely shade of pink, don't they?"

Actor laughed. "Yes, they do."

He rose from the bed, slipped his feet into shoes and tucked his shirttails in, a slight smile of contentment on his face.

Goniff grinned. "Feelin' better now, are yuh Mate?"

"Much," smiled Actor in reply.

The two men left the bedroom, Goniff going downstairs and Actor taking his turn to knock on Teresa's door. At her invitation, the con man let himself in. A pale green shirtwaist dress was lying on the bed. Teresa had unbuttoned her blouse, removed her right arm and was holding the front of the garment together modestly. She sat on the edge of the bed and eyed him narrowly.

"You keep that up and next time I might just rip the tape off."

"And I thought you didn't like inflicting pain on us," he replied.

"Ummm . . . "

He sat beside her and began removing the bandage. As he worked on the wound, he asked, "May I ask a favor of you while you are in London?"

"As long as it doesn't involve robbing the Bank of England, I suppose so." She watched his hands, enjoying the precise movements.

"I have placed an order for another pouch of tobacco at my tobacconist. I wondered if you might pick it up for me along with some pipe cleaning supplies?" He sprinkled powder on the suture line.

"Is he one of your underworld contacts?" asked Teresa brightly.

What a question thought Actor. "No, he is a tobacconist. Not all my acquaintances are larcenous." There was just the right touch of indignation in his voice.

Terry shrugged. "I never know with you."

"Thank you, Cara." There was more than a little stronger touch of indignation in this. "I will give you the money."

"And directions," added Teresa.

She moved her arm to get a better look at the wound.

"Hold still please," admonished Actor. "You really should keep that arm in a sling."

Terry laughed. "Tell you what, Caro. If you give me one of those pretty, fancy scarves you use as an ascot, I might just wear one."

"You know where they are," he answered, ripping tape.

"Sure, Actor." As if she would take one from his cupboard.

He put the finishing touches on the dressing and gathered his supplies. "There you go, Little One. Have a wonderful time in London."

"Want to come along?" invited Terry on impulse. "I'm sure Craig wouldn't care."

"Shopping with you two young women?" asked the con man with a projection of abject horror. "I think not."

"Ahh, I forgot," replied the woman overly dramatically with a smile. "We might cramp your style."

"One never knows when and where opportunity might strike," replied the Italian superiorly.

"Anxious to try things out after the stitches have been removed?" she teased.

"Teresa!"

"What? We all know you have an overactive libido. We're just not supposed to act like we know it, is that it?"

Actor had reached the door. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You will never become a lady. You are impossible, Child."

He heard the loud harrumph and managed to get out the door and close it before hearing the pillow strike it. A wide smile crossed his features. It was becoming enjoyable to push the woman's buttons.

Terry glared at the door, face dissolving into a grin and chuckling to herself. She lifted the edge of the dress on the bed to reveal the risqué bra and silk panties. The man had given them to her. It was a shame not to wear them, even though she had no intention of allowing him to know that she had even taken them out of the box in the top of the armoire.

She was fully dressed and in the bathroom, brushing her hair and putting on a light make up when there was a knock on her door. "Come in," she called.

Actor let himself back in the room, leaving the door open this time. He watched Teresa step from the bathroom. He gave her attire a once over and nodded approval. "Very nice."

"Thank you, Sir," replied Terry.

Actor held up a paisley green scarf. "I will fix a sling for you."

Terry giggled in delight. "I was joking, Actor," she said.

"I was not," he replied superiorly.

He folded the scarf diagonally and tied the long ends behind her neck. Safety pins were removed from his breast pocket and he tucked and pinned the other corner nattily to complete the sling. Finished, he tucked a folded piece of paper into the sling next to her arm.

She pulled it out and unfolded it and the money inside. "Nice, but I can't drive with this on," she said while reading the address on the paper.

"That is why Christine is driving and you are navigating."

"Yes, Caro," Terry said with feigned resignation.

The two went downstairs together. Chris was waiting at the door. She eyed the paisley with a jaundiced eye.

"Lovely," remarked the younger girl.

Garrison had come to his door. "What is that?" He was just a dubious as his kid sister.

"Merely a fashionable sling for a lady," intoned Actor.

Craig's eyes twinkled at his sister. "He still doesn't know you very well, does he?" he teased.

"Lieutenant!" the con man objected with indignation.

Terry curled a lip at her brother before beaming brightly up at Actor. "Thank you, Actor. You are a gallant gentleman . . . unlike certain family members."

Christine rolled her eyes and opened the front door to hurry her sister on. It was starting to get deep in here again.


	10. Chapter 10

Training Part 10

It had been a few days since Actor's stitches had been removed. He had also removed Chief's at that time. Goniff was up and around, but his arm was still in a sling and it would be a couple more weeks before the little pickpocket was well enough to go out on missions. Terry continued to use her arm, much to the confidence man's chagrin.

Craig watched her like a hawk. It was rare that he had so many of his group injured at the same time. He couldn't help feeling responsible; after all, he was in charge. There was nothing he could do about his men going on the missions; it was what they were here for. His sister was a different matter. He truly liked having her around, but it was dangerous for her on the missions. Oh, she functioned fine, and there was a lot she knew and was learning, but there was a lot she didn't know. That was what worried him. So it was with this uppermost in his mind that he called Terry into his office.

Terry was immediately on the alert. She knew the nuances of her brother's voice and figured she was in for trouble. Preceding him into his office she watched the officer take a seat behind his desk and look up at her like he would do with his men. Terry sucked in a cheek and gave him a hard look.

"Okay, Craig, what's eating you now?"

"I want you off these missions," replied Garrison.

"Don't start that again," said Terry with disgust. "What is it I did wrong? Hmm? Nothing that I can see . . . besides getting shot and that wasn't my fault."

"You got shot. Isn't that enough?" demanded her brother.

"So, you get shot a lot more than I do. Heck, Actor gets it more than the two of us."

"You're not trained adequately," said Craig, knowing he was in a losing battle and battle it would be.

"Not trained?" demanded Terry, voice raising. "I got us out of there and to the pickup without any problem didn't I? What trained?"

"You're learning from the men. That's on the job training and war is no place for on the job training!" returned Craig, hotly.

"Yeah, like they knew what they were doing when you got them out of prison?" Terry threw back at him. "You had to teach them . . . on the job! Besides, if you and they can't train me, then who can?"

"You're going to get one of them or yourself killed," said Craig, getting to the heart of the matter.

Terry's eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare blame me for them getting hurt. I took a bullet for Actor. I'd take a bullet for any one of them, you included."

"I'm not questioning your bravery."

"Oh screw bravery," exploded Terry. "We're supposed to be a team. We cover each other's backs. It has nothing to do with bravery, it has to do with loyalty. You know what that is, Brother?" She immediately slumped and held up a hand to stop him from replying. "Forget I said that. I know you do." Terry looked at him with frustration. "You think I don't worry about you out there? You can get a little gung ho there, Boy."

"Terry, you don't belong in combat. I'm a man, that's different." said Craig wearily.

"I am not on the front lines, so I don't consider that combat. And what difference does it make what gender we are? I can't see where the number of _appendages_ we have has any bearing on anything." The glare she received from him had her shaking her head.

"I'm not trying to get you to leave us," he tried for a calmer voice. "You can stay and take care of things here like you've been doing. You know, take care of the house and tend the wounds. Things a woman should be doing."

"Oh, I get it," said Terry in a way he knew wasn't the way he meant. "You want a built –in maid and nurse. Well the Army ain't gonna buy that one. And I don't either. Blast you, Craig Garrison! I was breaking horses by the time I was thirteen. We grew up on a working ranch, remember? There wasn't any room for sitting around the house eating bon bons. I can work horses and brand and cut cattle if I have to. Chris can too for that matter and she's the only one of us girls who is probably cut out for being a good wife and mother. I'm not ready for that role yet. And _your_ sister is a frickin' lunatic when it comes to running the Bar G."

Craig tried to take control back. "We're not talking about Chris or Cinder. We're talking about you. I don't want you getting killed."

"I don't want you getting killed either!" Terry started pacing. "But I don't try to make you accept a promotion and get a nice safe desk job! With your brains, you ought to be in Washington with Dad."

"Hah!" That was the last thing Craig wanted was to become a desk jockey.

"Hah back at you!"

Craig looked at blazing green eyes. He hadn't seen Terry this angry in a long time. He tried again. "Terry, I am not taking you on the missions anymore. We don't need you."

"Oh?" she fired back. "And what does Actor have to say about it? I'm partnered with him remember. Casino'd look awful darn funny in a dress and heels."

If he hadn't been so angry right now, Craig would have found that amusing considering he had seen Casino in a dress on the Micklenburg mission. "Actor got along without you before and he can get along without you now. And he will do what I say. Bottom line, Terry? No . . . more . . . missions!"

In a quieter, but just as firm voice, she said, "I told you before what I would do if you throw me out. You aren't going to get me to stop going in. I would just rather do it with them," she jerked her head toward the other room, "than with another group. So will you just quit this, Craig? Please?"

"You're not trained enough," replied her brother with his characteristic bulldog stubbornness.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Brother!"

She turned and stalked out of the room. Craig followed her to the door and watched her continue to stalk up the stairs. He ignored the pregnant silence behind him and went back into his office, shutting the door forcefully.

GGGGG

Actor gave Teresa a few hours to calm down. She had come back downstairs in old clothes, not even bothering to acknowledge the men, and gone out the back door. Seeing as he had been drawn into this battle, he felt he now had to take the side of the lieutenant. Maybe his approach would reach the girl better than a head on collision. So why did he feel like what he was going to do was wrong?

Terry straightened from pulling weeds in the vegetable garden and turned to look at the approach of the con man. The look on his face was thoughtful and concerned. Now what? She was yanking the weeds out of the dirt with the idea of each being her brother's neck, despite the pain in her arm. What was it, Actor's turn now? Of course, Craig knew she tended to listen to the Italian more than she did her brother.

Actor stepped with care between the mounded rows waiting for the anticipated vegetable seeds, to stand on the other side of the onion set row. It was like a spiky green demarcation line between the two.

"Actor, I'm warning you, I am not in a good mood right now." Terry's eyes were without the slight warmth she had reserved for the older man.

"I am aware of that," said Actor. He looked down at her with a calm smile. "I still wish to speak with you."

Terry eyed him silently and sourly for several seconds before dropping the handful of weeds on the ground next to the onions. "Okay." She turned and walked down between the rows to the gazebo and mounted the steps to the shady interior. Instead of sitting on the bench, he found her turned to face him, arms crossed defiantly in front of her.

Actor stopped before her and looked down at her, an inscrutable expression on his face. He got right to the point, but his tone was gentle. "I heard your conversation with the lieutenant."

"I'm sure all of you did," replied Terry, not giving an inch.

"I am afraid I must agree with him," admitted the con man. "I do not want you coming on the missions with us anymore."

That hit her like a knife, but she wasn't about to let him know that. "Really?" said Terry with a tinge of sarcasm. "And here I thought you were enjoying playing the cons with me. How silly of me."

Actor paused and sucked in his cheeks to take a moment before replying to that. "I do enjoy working a con with you. You have become very good at it." There was a tiny pause. " And you are one of the few partners I have had that I can trust." This was not easy for him to admit.

"But?" Terry wasn't giving him an inch.

"But, it is entirely too dangerous." Actor turned his eyes away from her and stepped to the side, left hand fiddling with his right sleeve cuff, looking out of the latticework toward the old stable. "You have been injured twice; once through my negligence and once because I could not do my job. I do not want this on my conscience. I do not wish to see you get hurt again or killed, especially on my account."

Terry stared at his back. Was he saying he cared about her? Don't be ridiculous she chided herself. Actor didn't care about anyone except Actor. He was the best confidence man in all Europe, so of course he could make himself sound sincere. Craig had just put him up to trying to make her feel guilty and agree to quit. She looked at the slightly bowed head and hardened her resolve. Damn the man was good.

"You are not in any way responsible for my being injured," said Terry in a moderate voice, "and you know it."

The Italian's head came up and turned to lock hazel eyes with her green ones. He kept his eyes carefully expressionless. Terry had put on a small disdainful smile.

"You better watch what you say, Actor," she said coolly. "Someone might hear you and think you actually give a damn."

She strode past him, out of the gazebo and toward the house.

G

Actor leaned an outstretched arm against the wooden door frame of the gazebo and watched the young woman stride across the yard to the kitchen door. The stiff set of her shoulders bespoke anger, defiance and . . . pain. It had been his intention to never cause the young woman any pain. The fact that he had bothered him greatly, even though rationally he knew it might mean the difference between her living and dying.

What was happening to him? Why was he so concerned about Teresa Garrison? He had learned a long time ago to only worry about himself. If you allowed yourself to be concerned about other people, it put you in danger, of getting caught, of being manipulated . . . of being hurt. But he did care. When the Warden was incapacitated and Actor was in charge of the group, he worried about the men. He worried a lot. It scared him. It reeked of responsibility. Responsibility for three other human beings, sometimes four if Teresa was there. Responsibility for the mission, for getting the information out safely, which made him responsible for the lives of people he didn't even know. However, in turn, it gave him a feeling of self-worth; something that had been driven from him by his father. And that lack of self worth was carefully hidden behind the arrogant demeanor that was 'Actor'. He veered away from that line of thinking.

Getting back to Teresa, she had been handed to him with the orders to turn her into a confidence woman. He had done it because it was his job. But that wasn't entirely true. She was aggravating, annoying, and had fought him most of the way. Ah, but when she ceased fighting, she was everything he could want in a working partner. They were rapidly reaching the point that they could communicate without talking. He could suddenly change the con and she could follow him. And she was reaching a stage where she could change the con if necessary and know he would follow her. It was intoxicating and exhilarating. He had worked with women before on rare occasions. The ones he had worked with had been good, but nothing to what Teresa was or could be. They were still perfecting her con and with a little time and effort, she could probably be one of the best in Europe. So why was he now trying to get rid of her?

What was her parting shot? "You better watch what you say, Actor. Someone might hear you and think you actually give a damn'? _Merde!_ Had he allowed her to get that close? The answer could only be yes. His mind flashed back to opening the door of that building and finding Teresa on the floor with that _cinghiale_ on top of her. He remembered the rage that had coursed through his whole being and what he had done. Oh yes, he cared. And that thought scared him too. He straightened and took some deep calming breaths, pushing the emotions evoked down where they could do no harm. It would be better for both of them if Teresa disappeared from his life.

Terry pushed through the door into the kitchen, allowing it to slam shut behind her, and headed for the stairs. She was halfway up when Garrison came to the doorway of his office. Terry paused and took in the four silent faces that were watching her. She focused on her brother.

"Nice try, Craig," said Terry. "Who are you going to send to talk to me next? Because right now I might just pop the next one of you who opens a mouth to me. If you want dinner tonight you best be leaving me alone." She took a step up before pausing, one hand on the railing to look hard at Garrison. "And you might take into consideration, if you get rid of me, you'll all be back to eating Spam out of the can." With that she turned and trotted up the stairs to her room.

The eyes of the three cons exchanged looks. Garrison just shook his head. The officer looked up as his oldest member came more sedately around the corner from the dining room.

"And what was that about?" asked Garrison, crossing his arms.

Actor gestured in defeat. "I attempted to talk some sense into her."

"Didn't get very far, did you?" said Craig, knowingly.

"Not even close, Warden," admitted the Italian.

Craig turned and disappeared into his office, while Actor started toward his chair.

Casino chortled and spoke to the others in the common room. "Finally found someone besides a judge he can't con."

The safecracker wasn't ready for the strong fist that connected with his jaw and sent him and the chair he was in falling backward. Garrison was back in the doorway in time to see Actor, standing over the safecracker, grab Casino by the shirtfront and lift him up with his other arm cocked back, hand in a fist, ready to strike again.

"That's enough! Knock it off!" shouted Craig.

"That is precisely what I am trying to do," snarled the confidence man.

"Actor, cool off! Casino, shut up!" ordered the officer with anger.

Both men froze, Casino's fist now primed to swing at the Italian. The combatants looked at Garrison and decided the wrath of the officer wasn't worth the satisfaction of hitting each other. Actor released his hold on Casino and straightened to adjust his clothing into dignified order. Casino rose from the floor and picked up his chair. The two cons glared at each other and turned away, Actor going to his chair and Casino taking a seat at the table again.

Garrison turned on his heels and went back into his office, shutting the door firmly behind him. He stopped and ran a hand through his sandy hair. He was beginning to wish he had not started this mess with Terry. There was no way he could back down now, not and keep face with his men.

None of them saw Christine on the staircase. She turned and went back upstairs to her sister's bedroom. She let herself in and closed the door quietly behind her. Terry was changing into clean brown trousers and a soft cream-colored embroidered sweater.

"So what was that?" the older girl asked automatically, with barely any interest.

"That was Actor and Casino fighting," said Chris.

Terry snorted. "Actor this time? I hope Casino decked him." As she said the words, she knew she didn't mean them.

"No, actually Actor had Casino on the floor."

Crystal stayed out of her sister's way and just observed. Terry was angry, but settling down as was usual with her temper. She pulled the duffle bag out, tossing it onto the bed and began pulling clothes from the armoire.

"Will you make dinner for them tonight?" asked the older girl.

"I can," replied Chris. "Aren't you eating?"

"No." Terry was folding and rolling clothes up and putting them in her bag.

Chris spoke in a deceptively casual voice. "Coming back any time soon?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Just depends."

Terry tied the duffle shut and hefted it over her left shoulder. Her right arm was aching. Christine stepped back and held the door open, watching her sister stride out. She followed to the top of the stairs.

The men looked up as she descended, Actor concerned, Goniff worried, Chief watchful, and Casino wary.

"Where you goin', Babe?" asked the safecracker.

Terry paused. "Away from here."

Garrison came to the door. His middle sister fixed him with a stony look.

"Terry, I don't want you going to France!" said Craig firmly.

"Right now, I'm going to my flat. I work the bar tonight and want to take that dress to the cleaners before they close," replied the girl. Her voice became firmer. "Where I go and what I do from there is none of your business. I am no longer your 'responsibility'." She turned to the men, "Or yours."

"Teresa . . ." began Actor.

"Don't," she said sharply. "You've had your say. I get the picture."

She continued down the stairs, paused at the coat tree and lifted Casino's bomber jacket from it. For once the man kept his mouth shut. She tossed the jacket over her right forearm one-handedly and went out the front door, shutting it without slamming it.

The men were froze in silence until they heard the motorcycle start up and fade away down the driveway.

"Terrific," said Casino in disgust. "That went real well."

"Lieutenant, when she has had time to settle her mind, I could go in to Brandonshire and attempt to talk with her," offered Actor somewhat dubiously.

"No," Craig shook his head. "She'd probably just knife you."


	11. Chapter 11

Training Part 11

It was a half hour after closing by the time Casino let himself in through the blackout curtains behind the door to the Blue Fox. He stood off to the side, surveying the scene in front of him. A smoky haze wispily floated near the ceiling seeming to lazily follow the crooning of Billie Holiday from the juke box. Terry stood at the other end of the bar, drying a glass and watching him with an expression that was half resigned and half wary. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, thought Casino. Too late now. Besides he was never one to back down from anything, so he ambled along the length of the bar and took the last seat, the one Actor always occupied. Terry didn't say anything, but set the now dry glass on the shelf and selected one that wasn't fresh from the hot water. Still silent, she walked to the tap and poured a half pint. It gave Casino the opportunity to study her. The cream sweater clung to her at once chaste and sexy. Damn that girl had a nice figure, when she showed it off, even in trousers. He noticed she wasn't wearing the sling. She shouldn't be tending bar by herself with a bum wing.

Terry returned and set the glass in front of the safecracker. He motioned for her to take a drink first. She shook her head, retrieving a half empty glass of coke from under the bar as she slid onto her stool.

"You're late," she said casually. "Not much traffic out tonight?"

"Naw," replied Casino, taking a sip of ale. "Finally got picked up by a coupla dames on their way back from London."

"I thought Craig and Actor said enough already," she spoke quietly. "Or did you come to get your jacket back?"

Casino shook his head. "You can hang onto it for awhile. Just don't go takin' it over to France or Holland or Belgium. That's a good jacket. I don't want it fulla holes."

Terry gave a crooked smile. "I'm not going anywhere for awhile. If and when I do, I'll get the jacket back to you first." She absently rubbed at the bandage under her sleeve.

"That botherin' you? Yuh should be takin' it easy, not workin'."

"Like I said, Actor stitched it so I'm not worried about it coming apart."

"Yuh ain't helpin' it any," admonished the safecracker.

"Yeah, Ma," she shot back with a reasonable imitation of his accent.

They both took a sip in silence.

"Terr, I don't understand why you wanna keep doin' this?" said Casino with a frown. "Why do you wanna keep riskin' your life?"

"I think you do understand," said Terry gently. "You just haven't realized it yet."

"Wadda you mean?"

"Why are you still here?" coaxed Terry. "Why are any of you still here?" She had his attention now. "Actor gets you in and out of Germany like a walk in the park. Getting all of you to Switzerland would be a piece of cake for that man. So why haven't you gone?"

Casino brushed a hand over his forehead and through his hair in discomfort. Terry absently watched the wayward curl spring back down as she waited. She had a feeling she wouldn't get an answer from him, but he was thinking.

"I feel like I'm doing something useful . . . something that makes a difference," she said.

Casino looked at her sharply, realizing she did understand. "Yeah," he agreed. "But ain't nursin' making a difference? Why don't you join the army or the Red Cross or something?"

Terry shook her head. "After being on the Continent doing what we're doing, I'd feel stifled. Just like going back to the ranch right now would drive me insane. I'm not sure, but I think it would be like taking you from here and sticking you back in stir again."

"Maybe."

"And then there's the other reason," she added.

Casino frowned. "What other reason?"

Now Terry frowned. "When I pull a con with Actor, you know, a really good con, it's kind of a rush. And when we pull off a caper, and we get what we go after and get out of there in mostly one piece . . . there's kind of a rush to that too."

"You're a dame," scoffed Casino. "You're not s'posed to feel that."

"Why not?" demanded Terry.

"Dames are supposed to be happy takin' care of their man." He gave her a worried look. "You don't like takin' care of us?"

"Of course I do," she said with a softer voice. "But I also like going in with you guys. And I worry a little less when I'm with you because I know what's happening." She frowned again. "Does it really bother you guys that much to have me along?"

"Naw," he replied. "You hold your own. And you're a lot gentler than Actor when we get hurt. We just feel bad when somethin' happens to you. And I don't like blowin' yuh up."

Terry laughed. "Oh, Casino, you didn't blow me up. Whoever made that timer blew me up."

At his sour look, she reached over and rubbed the back of his hand. He turned his palm up and held hers, thumb rubbing the back of it. She didn't pull back.

"Yuh still could use some drivin' lessons," he grumbled.

"Oh, bugger off, Casino," she retorted with more amusement than anything. "I was wheelman before I ever met you guys." At his startled look up at her, she laughed. "I wasn't always a nurse in New York."

"Yeah, well that Shiv boyfriend of yours ain't just an ex-doctor," grumbled the safecracker. "Where is he anyway?"

"I would imagine my _boyfriend_ is at home in bed with my _girlfriend_ where he belongs."

Casino sat silent for a moment, eyes on their clasped hands as his thumb moved back and forth. "So wadda yuh gonna do?"

Terry shrugged. "I don't know yet. I can't stay at the Mansion without going on some of the missions. The army won't allow it."

"Yeah, well, what about that _clearance_ you have? Don't that make any difference?"

Terry frowned. "Yes, it could, but it would be a constant battle with the local Brass. Besides, Craig won't put up with me staying there and going off with SOE or somebody."

Casino thought about it. If she worked with the Resistance, they wouldn't care about her like the cons did. And if she got shot or somethin', there wouldn't be anybody to take care of her like Actor did. Casino lightly tightened his grip on her hand. "I don't think you should be doin' the stuff we do." At the tightening of her lips, he added, "But if yuh just gotta do it, well, I guess I'd rather have you doin' it with us than somebody else."

Terry cocked her head and studied him, surprised at the concession. "Well, you aren't the one with the say in the matter. But thanks." She paused. "How are you getting back?"

"I guess the same way I got here."

Terry shook her head. "You won't make it back by morning. Help me clean up. We can ride double on the motorcycle."

"You comin' home tonight?" asked Casino hopefully.

"No, but I'll drop you off and come back."

Casino figured that was the best it was going to be for now. He helped wipe down tables while she finished washing the glasses. There wasn't much to it since the crowd had been light that night. It wasn't quite midnight when Terry flipped the lights off and led the way through the back room. Casino had only been back there once before. He glanced at the door going to the basement.

"What's down there?" he asked idly.

"Junk," Terry replied offhandedly.

Casino picked his jacket up from atop a couple crates and held it for Terry. She slipped her arms in it and pulled it around as they stepped into the cold night air of the alley. Casino eyed the motorcycle.

"How do you get gas for that thing?" he asked curiously. Rationing said she shouldn't be able to.

"Shiv has connections."

Shiv has a lotta things, thought Casino sourly. He threw a leg over the bike and straightened it off the kickstand. One jump and it started right up. He settled on the seat, legs tripoded out. Terry placed a hand on his shoulder and swung her leg over the back, settling on the smaller back seat. Casino waited until her arms went around his waist before taking off. They wove through the silent, deserted streets of Brandonshire. When they reached the edge of town, Terry tucked her head down, laid her face against the back of his shoulder out of the wind and tightened her arms around his waist. Jeez, maybe he oughta miss the turn to the Mansion and keep on goin' . . . forever. Naw, she wouldn't run off with him. Actor, maybe – him, no. There seemed to be a closeness between Terry and the Italian that was maybe more than just working the con together. If Actor wasn't an aristocrat, he sure knew how to act the part. Him? He came from a big Italian/ American family who struggled to make ends meet. He didn't have anything to offer Terry, but at least he didn't expect her to act hoity-toity. He liked her whichever way she was . . . except when she got mouthy, but that was really all right too. After a half hour, Casino turned the bike down the drive to the Mansion.

"Stop," said Terry into his ear.

He braked in the middle of the drive and shut the machine off.

"I'm not going up to the house."

She climbed off the bike, leaving him missing her warmth against his back. He set the kickstand and climbed off. They stood facing each other, a few steps apart.

"Sorry I'm making you walk."

Casino shrugged. "Not a problem."

They looked at each other until it started to get a little awkward. Terry gave a funny grin and stepped up to hug him. Casino held her tight for a moment and then chuckled.

"I don't mind huggin' you," he said in an understatement, "but it's a little strange huggin' my jacket."

Terry giggled and stepped back from his embrace. "You want it back?"

Casino shook his head. "If you just _gotta_ go back to Brandonshire tonight, you're gonna need it."

"I gotta go," said Terry before she could change her resolve.

Casino watched her mount the bike. Aw, what the hell. The worst she could do was slap him. He walked over and bent his head to kiss her. Her lips yielded under his, not quite inviting, but not objecting either. They pulled back at the same time, but remained with noses an inch apart.

"You be careful, Babe," he admonished gently.

"You too," she replied. "I'll be back in a couple days, after Craig and I both cool off."

"For good?" he asked hopefully.

"No, just until I get things figured out."

She turned away and jumped on the starter pedal. The motorcycle came to life, drowning the quiet moment. Casino stepped back and turned to watch her as she rode forward and turned the bike around. She rode slowly past him, their eyes on each other's faces and then she throttled forward. He stood in the middle of the drive, watching until she was out of sight before turning and trudging toward the house. Damn, she smelled good. She had all the right curves, softness and firmness in all the right places. She hugged good too. The kiss had been guarded, but he bet if she loosened up a little, she'd prove to be a darn good kisser too.

He would have been happy and surprised to know she was thinking along those same lines about him. Terry was riding slowly, eyes straining to not miss seeing the potholes in the road, but her mind was on Casino. Tucked up against him and holding tight on the back of the motorcycle had reconfirmed the slim waist and taut muscular body. She didn't know what he used for aftershave, but that was part of the reason she liked to wear his jacket. Leather, aftershave and Casino was a good combination. He kissed good too. She bet he had plenty of practice.

Casino climbed up the trellis and through the sawed bars into the dark upstairs common room. The smell of cigarette smoke assailed his nose and he froze, wary.

"I assume you went to talk to her?" Garrison reached up and turned on the light over his chair.

He looked tired. The uniform he had worn all day was no longer crisply creased. The ashtray beside his right hand held a neat pyramid of cigarette butts. From the looks of it, the Warden had been sitting there since just after Casino had left. The eyes that looked at the safecracker were not those of an annoyed commanding officer, but of a man who was just talking to another man.

"Yeah," said Casino, acting like there wasn't any problem with him sneaking out at night.

"Get anywhere?" The tone of Craig's voice showed his doubt at that happening.

"Not any farther than Beautiful did," admitted Casino. "She's comin' back in a few days, but she ain't stayin'."

"Say what her plans are?"

Casino shook his head. "I ain't sure she knows yet. She just says the Army don't want her stayin' with us if she ain't part of the team . . . and you wouldn't put up with her goin' off with nobody else."

Garrison gave a sigh that almost sounded of defeat. Casino was beginning to think the man was regretting his previous actions with the girl.

"Do I have to worry about the rest of you sneaking out to go talk to her?" asked Garrison with a touch of sarcasm that could have masked hopefulness.

Casino shrugged. "I can't vouch for the Indian, but I don't think Goniff is up for it."

Craig snubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and rose from the chair. He tucked his hands into his pockets and walked slowly toward the door. He paused with his hand on the doorknob. "I'm sure it was a good try anyway, Casino."

"Yeah," said the safecracker sourly. Not good enough, and not what the Warden wanted. But then, maybe the Warden didn't want her to go. He wondered if Garrison had been hoping the cons could undo the damage he had started.

He followed the Warden into the hall and they both went to their rooms.

GGGGG

Terry awakened and rolled over to look at the clock. It was 10 am and she couldn't sleep. The events of the past twenty-four hours kept circling through her mind . . . with jackboots on. There was Craig's domineering stance of banning her from the team. Yes, she could circumvent him probably by going over his head, but that would have them at each other's throats. It wouldn't be good for his leadership over the men, the morale or the teamwork. Then there was Actor's little spiel out in the gazebo. She tried to tell herself it was simply one of his cons, instigated by her brother. But was it? Finally there was Casino. Of all of them, he was the most male dominant of the cons in nature. Yet, he had accepted her view to her surprise . . . and kissed her. She could have objected. She should have objected. Well . . .

A plan started to form in her mind. She calculated time zones and decided she still had time to try to get a call into her father. Blackmail could sometimes be a wonderful thing. So could clearance. Terry threw the covers back, sat up and slipped her feet into slippers and headed for the living room, grabbing her robe off the foot of the bed. Dropping into a chair, she picked up the phone and started the involved process of putting a call through to the war department in Washington.

A half hour later, the call went through. She and her father went through the usual banalities before Terry could get to the point.

"Has Craig talked to you?" she asked.

"About you, yes," replied Gen. Garrison. "He wants you out of there. Says you aren't trained well enough."

"In some ways I can agree with him," said Terry. She would have to be very careful here. "When it comes to doing what the guys do, I'm pretty good. Even Craig says Actor and I are a good team at the con." Luckily she couldn't see her father wince on the other end. "Casino is teaching me to pick locks. Goniff is teaching me to pick pockets. I always could throw a knife. Craig has taught me how to fire any gun, American or German. I can do a dead drop and a live drop."

"Wonderful," muttered Terry's father sarcastically.

"Hey, you sent me over here," shot back Terry. "I need to learn more than what they taught me in Virginia. And what they did teach me, they didn't teach well. Jumping once off a parachute tower doesn't cut it for jumping out of an airplane."

"Just what is it you want to know?" asked the general. He knew his daughter well enough now to figure the answer should be interesting.

"I want to learn radio, telegraph, codes, simple explosives," she slowed down now, "better hand-to-hand . . . how to kill close-up."

There was silence on the phone as Gen. Garrison tried to understand that he had just heard his _daughter_ request to learn how to kill. "Terry, you have trouble killing an animal. Have you ever killed a man?"

"Yes."

That wasn't the answer he had expected. "How?" he asked.

"Knife the first time. Gun the second. The last time was with a schmeisser." It was said without any triumph.

"And you're handling this okay?" the older man asked dubiously.

"I'm learning," said Terry. "It's not something I want to do, but if it means the lives of Craig or any of the men, I'll do it."

There were apparently a few things Craig had been leaving out of his reports.

"All right, Terry," said Garrison. "This is not something that will be easy to arrange. The Army does not allow women in combat situations. You expect me to get you Army training? The Army will not condone this."

"And the Army condones using incarcerated felons in guerrilla teams?" Terry asked back with feigned innocence. "And impersonating German officers and soldiers?"

"And just why would I agree to this?" asked Garrison, ignoring the barbs.

"Jaguar." Terry threw in her ace in the hole. "You still want Jaguar don't you?"

"You've found Jaguar?" Garrison's interest really picked up now.

"I've got a couple leads," hedged Terry. "And an idea. If I were trained better, I could maybe infiltrate it and turn it or at least give you some input into the running of it."

There was silence on the other end, and Terry knew she had him.

Garrison knew it could be arranged, but it would have to be under high security. "You will have to have a handler, and not your brother. It will have to be an officer who is familiar with the teams."

"Not Col. Hammond or Gen. Fremont," said Terry adamantly. "Will a Commando Major do?"

"I suppose," said her father. "Who do you have in mind?"

"Major Kevin Richards?"

GGGGG

Terry waited three more days before returning to the Mansion. It was late afternoon and she arrived in time to watch the usual pre-mission activities. She strolled into Craig's office as her brother was packing his bag.

"Where are you off to this time?"

Garrison looked at his sister without response for a minute. He didn't need another row with Terry right now. "You're not going. We don't need you."

"You're a man short. Goniff isn't going with you. I don't buy you don't 'need' me, but I accept you don't 'want' me."

Craig wasn't about to rise to the bait. He continued to pack in silence, aware of Terry wandering around the room and stopping to gaze out the window. He still didn't know what the girl's plans were. Chris had agreed to stay here with Goniff, but she didn't have Terry's medical expertise.

"Will you keep an eye on Goniff?" he asked.

"Of course." She continued to look out the window. "How long are you going to be gone?"

"Three days."

Garrison tied the end of his bag closed and hefted it. Without a word, he left the office. Terry slowly turned and followed as far as the door. She clasped her hands behind her and leaned with the door jamb between her shoulder blades. Christine was sitting in the window, watching her siblings. She rose and crossed over to stand beside Terry.

Chief was the first down the stairs. He paused and looked between the two women. Terry was showing about as much emotion as Actor had lately. She must have learned well from him. The younger girl cast furtive glances at him, the corner of her mouth twitching upward minutely. Unobserved by the other men, Chief closed one eye in a wink that brought a genuine smile from Chris. Terry's expression never changed, but she crossed her eyes.

Casino came grouchily down the stairs next. His jacket was back on the coat tree. He glanced at the Warden's back and then at the Indian. Feeling it was safe, he grinned and winked boldly at Terry. She noiselessly choked back a laugh. Chris turned to look in disbelief at her sister. Terry looked back at her and shrugged when Crystal crossed her eyes.

Actor descended last, not acknowledging either girl. He stepped over to Garrison and spoke in low tones. The younger man nodded at whatever the con man had said.

"Come on," said Garrison.

The four men filed out the door. Terry watched the door close, feeling strangely bereft that there had not even been a glance her way from Actor. Well, he had said he didn't want her on the missions either.

Unable to help herself, Terry walked out on the front porch and stood, leaning on the wall, watching the men load their bags into the trunk of the Packard. Chief and Casino got into the back seat. Garrison was already in the driver's seat, starting the big engine.

Actor opened the front passenger door. Something made him stop. He didn't wish to leave on a mission without at least acknowledging Teresa. What if this time he didn't come back? Then, he remembered her parting shot in the gazebo about someone thinking he might care. She obviously did not think he did. Still, he turned his head to look at the woman at the top of the stairs. Neither of them smiled. Garrison yelled at him to get in the car and he ducked down into the front seat, closing the door.

Terry watched the car until it disappeared from sight around a tree lined curve of the driveway. Somehow, she had hoped when he had looked at her there would have been a bit of a smile, anything, but there had been nothing. A con . . . that's all it had ever been was one of his cons. It was the man; it was what he did. She didn't want to ask herself why that bothered her so much. With a sigh, she went back into the house.

Goniff had gotten up from the chair he was in and approached Terry cautiously. "Uh, Terry Love?"

"Yes, Goniff?" Terry put on a smile that became genuine when she looked at the tousle-haired blond man.

"Um, if you don't want to take care of us anymore," he said, "I can take care of meself okay. You don't 'ave to stay 'ere if you don't want to."

Chris had started to move away. She turned and looked sharply at her sister. Terry was frozen, stunned.

"Goniff," she said. "I don't want to leave you guys. But, I can't stay if I'm not part of the team. I told Craig I would stay and help you until they get back and I intend to do just that."

The blond nodded like it didn't really matter, "Well, if you want to leave at any time, you don't 'ave to stay on my account."

Terry turned abruptly and walked past her sister toward the kitchen.

"Have you eaten supper?" Chris called after her.

"No."

"Do you want a plate?"

"No."

Chris heard the back door close.

Goniff fixed his eyes on the back of Christine's head. He had a feeling he had just screwed up again. He knew it for certain sure when she turned around and glared at him.

"I suppose you want her gone too," the younger girl said accusingly.

"No," replied Goniff. "Warden, does. 'E says she's safer away from us."

"Away from you means she still goes in, but she doesn't have you guys watching her back," said Chris in disgust. "Yeah, that's a whole lot safer."

Goniff fidgeted in discomfort. He hadn't thought that angle through too well. "You go in without us," he hedged.

"Yes, but I have Dirk and Tinker watching my back."

Goniff's face screwed up as he thought about it. "Can't Actor talk to the Warden? "E can sweet talk 'most anybody."

"Actor told her he didn't want her on the missions either." Crystal's voice showed her disgust at what she considered was Actor's betrayal of her sister.

"That don't seem right," pondered the pickpocket aloud. "Actor and Terry work real good together."

Chris was beginning to think maybe Actor was as shallow as she had originally thought. Terry had told her otherwise, but maybe the con man had pulled a con on her. "Maybe Actor wants someone a little more sophisticated or larcenous than Terry." Or older and looser she thought.

Goniff didn't think that was the case either. Terry delighted in teasing the aristocratic man, but lately she could be as sophisticated as any bird Actor had on his arm – and probably a lot smarter. He had watched her pretend to be a German general's wife and an old money French aristocrat and make it look real. Goniff didn't want to see Terry get hurt or killed, but he already missed her and she wasn't gone yet. She treated him like a worthwhile person and he looked forward to the private time he had with her when they were able to go to the Wednesday farm market. He really didn't want to see her go and from the sounds of things it would just make it more dangerous for her. He wished the Warden had just left well enough alone, but then, the Warden never could seem to leave well enough alone.

GGGGG

The telephone rang while Chris was washing up their breakfast dishes the next morning. She dried her hands and glanced out the window. Terry was cleaning up the chicken coop. Goniff was upstairs. That left her to answer the phone. She wasn't about to answer 'Garrison's Gorillas' like she had heard Casino and Goniff do on occasion. With a bit of hesitancy, Chris picked up the phone in Craig's office.

"Hello?"

A male voice with military bearing spoke. "Is this Teresa Garrison?"

"No," said Chris. "This is her sister, Christine."

"Major Richards wishes to speak with _Teresa_ Garrison. Is she available?"

"Uh, yes. She's outside. I'll go get her." A bad thought went through her mind. "Is Lt. Garrison okay? Did something happen to the group?"

"I have no knowledge of anything regarding Lt. Garrison. If you could please get Teresa . . ."

"Yes, right away."

Chris carefully set the phone down and ran for the backdoor. Why did a Major want to talk to Terry unless something had happened to Craig? She opened the back door and stood on the step.

"Terry!"

She watched her sister straighten and turn.

"There's a Major Richards on the phone for you!"

Terry nodded calmly and wiped her hands on her pants before moving quickly, but without panic, out of the coop and fastening the door shut. Chris watched her jog to the house. She moved out of the way and followed Terry to Craig's office.

"Thanks, Sis," said Terry with a smile before shutting the door firmly in her sister's face.

Chris stood and stared at the door in frustration. This was where Goniff found her as he descended the stairs.

"I thought I 'eard the phone?" said the pickpocket questioningly. He glanced at the closed door to Garrison's office. "Something 'appen to the guys?" he asked with concern.

"I don't know," replied Chris meeting him at the bottom of the stairs. "What's with Terry and Major Richards?"

"Nothing much that I know of," said Goniff. He followed her to the kitchen. "She went dancing with 'im once to get permission for us to use 'n 'ospital when we need it."

Chris went back to washing dishes. The Englishman opened an upper cupboard and got out a teacup and his tin of tea. He thought about it while making a cuppa from the kettle of water that was still hot on the stove.

"Warden, didn't brief with Richards on this one," he said. "'E went to Brandonshire and briefed with Schaeffer. This don't 'ave nothing to do with the mission," he said confidently. He frowned. So what was it about?

Goniff was sitting down savoring his cuppa and Crystal was rinsing the sink when Terry bounced into the room. She got a mug out and poured a cup of ersatz coffee, pulling out a chair at the table and sitting next to Goniff.

"Is Craig all right?" asked Chris.

"As far as I know," said Terry taking a sip of coffee and grimacing at the burnt grain taste.

"Nice conversation with the Major?" asked Goniff.

"Yup."

"Got a date?" he prompted.

"Nope." She looked at him with a smile. "I need to change that dressing again," she attempted to change the subject.

"I take it you're not going to tell us what the phone call was about," said Chris frustrated.

"You take it correctly," replied Terry evenly. "Oh, I need you to take the stitches out of my arm."

That got wide eyed attention from both of them.

"Why me?" asked Chris. "Why not let Actor do it when they get back?"

"Because you are perfectly capable and I don't need any more attention from Actor," was the answer.

Blimey, thought Goniff. Whatever Actor had said to Terry had really buggered her up. The whole bleedin' group was falling apart and he didn't like it. Not one bit he didn't like it. Judging by the look on Christine's face, she didn't like it either. Why did the Warden have to go and start something with Terry, he wondered. Yeah, they had both been shot, but they wasn't dead. Things had been going okay. Why couldn't the Warden leave things alone? 'Cause the Warden couldn't leave things alone. He had proved that time and again on missions, adding on crazy stunts that weren't in the original plans. Goniff wondered what was going to happen next, but he didn't figure it was going to be good.


	12. Chapter 12

Training Part 12

Three days later, the group returned. They'd had unexpected luck and the cons had been able to get sleep on the boat trip back from the Continent. Instead of stopping at the Mansion, they had gone on to Brandonshire where Craig and Actor debriefed with Major Schaeffer. The next unexpected bonus was a 48 hours pass to London for the men.

As Craig drove the Packard back to the Mansion, he wondered if there would be a third unexpected bonus. He half expected Terry to be gone, but hoped she had changed her mind and was ready to fight for staying on. Having time to think about it on the boat trip back, as he never slept until they were in the Mansion, he was beginning to regret his brotherly concern for his sister's well-being. Well, not exactly for that, but he was beginning to think getting rid of Terry wasn't such a bright idea. She was useful and if he were truthful, she could hold up her end of things.

This mission had been eye opening in a way. It had gone fairly smoothly for once. Even short a man, the guys had worked together as the finely-oiled team they were rapidly becoming. That was not to say there were not tense moments that opened Garrison's eyes to the help his sister could have given on this mission.

He was to make contact with one of the Resistance to be given directions to a new safe house in the countryside. The contact was a baker whose shop was on the main street of a town in France. Garrison, dressed as a peasant in rough clothing, had entered the shop under the pretense of buying a bit of bread. All had been going well, the password given, the exchange about to be made, when a Gestapo officer entered the shop. If Garrison had been a woman, or had a woman with him, it would have been less suspicious than a young man alone. Craig had felt his heart in his throat when the officer had approached and eyed his with more than a passing curiosity. Garrison had glanced in the direction of the man, and turned his gaze downward in apparent fear, feigning a poorly functioning left arm and leg. This would hopefully explain why an otherwise healthy appearing young man was not in the army or away from the town. Craig knew Actor was across the street, not in SS uniform, trying to come up with a plan for rescue if things went bad. The baker improvised quickly, writing coordinates on a scrap of wrapping paper which he crumpled tightly into a pellet-sized ball and stuffed into the interior of a bun he was wrapping up for the young cripple. The wrapped bun was passed over the counter to Garrison above the few small coins on the glass top. Craig took it with his right hand and turned to leave. The officer demanded to see his papers. On a gamble, Craig shifted the bun to his crippled left hand and nervously began to search inside his open jacket for his papers. The bun slipped from his weak grasp and landed on the floor. Pretending confusion, Craig's good hand had darted back and forth between his jacket and toward the floor as if uncertain which to do first, appease the officer or retrieve the precious piece of bread. It had worked. The officer had become impatient, imperiously directing Garrison to get his bread and get out of the way. Speaking a thank you in French, Craig had snatched up the bun and limped as rapidly as a cripple could, out the door and onto the sidewalk.

Later, sitting at a bare wooden table in the safe house, Garrison had smoked a cigarette and reviewed in his mind that earlier encounter. He realized that his sister could have and previously had been able to enter a shop without suspicion and make the contact. In fact one time, she had been approached by a German officer. With a combination of apprehension and coyness, she had extracted herself from the situation and rejoined him and the cons, earning herself a small half-smile of approval from Actor for the successful con.

Garrison, Actor and Casino had gone into Gestapo headquarters as an inspection team from the Abwehr; a sure guarantee to ruffle feathers with the residing major. Chief had provided the diversionary activity with alarms and electricity outages. Casino had no problem getting the material they were after from the major's safe when he went to appraise the situation. When the air raid siren had sounded, the 'inspecting officers' had rapidly vacated the premises. They were not followed as the tires of the other vehicles had been stabbed with a bayonet by Chief during the confusion.

The mission had not been the problem so much as the attitude of the men on the way back. Casino hadn't been his usual mouthy self and was still abnormally quiet. Chief was always quiet, but this time he wasn't fighting with Casino.

Craig glanced at the tall man beside him in the front seat of the Packard. Actor had not engaged in any unnecessary conversation with the other two, or with Garrison. He was sitting, looking straight ahead, withdrawn into himself and quiet as he had not been since the beginning of the team. He had been that way since his conversation with Terry. Craig wondered what had been said, but knew better than to ask – either of them.

Terry and Chris were standing between the dining room and the foyer when they entered the house.

"Anybody hurt?" Terry asked.

"No," replied Garrison, "We're fine."

"You guys want breakfast before you go to bed?" she asked with her usual tone.

"Nothin' for me, Babe," said Casino.

Chief shook his head, avoiding her eyes.

"Actor?" asked Terry is surprise.

"No, thank you, Teresa," the con man replied politely.

Garrison watched Terry's face go still and as inscrutable as the Italian's. Well the guys weren't helping things. Craig had hoped if everything went along normally, Terry might be easier to keep around. Obviously that wasn't going to happen.

"I'll put the food away," said Chris quietly to her sister and went back to the kitchen.

"Meet back here at three," Craig said to his men. He turned to Goniff in the common room, "You have a forty-eight hour pass to London."

"I don't think I'm quite up for it yet, Warden," the pickpocket said unexpectedly.

Oh this was going really well thought Craig sourly. It just steadily worsened.

Actor was partway up the steps and stopped abruptly, almost getting run into by Casino. He turned to look calmly at the girl. "I will remove your sutures before we leave," he said.

"They're out," replied Terry just as calmly.

One eyebrow rose before Actor turned and continued up the stairs.

Craig hefted his duffle bag and went into his office. He tossed it onto the conference table and turned around. Terry was standing in the doorway, a patent smile on her face.

"I haven't been to London with the guys for awhile," she said. "I think I'll tag along."

Garrison looked at her with attempted sternness. "The guys are going to London for some female recreation. They don't need you 'tagging along'." He received a cold glare from the girl before she turned and walked out.

He knew it was an effort in futility, but Craig hoped by keeping Terry at the Mansion it would give him some time to come up with a plan that allowed her to stay and let him save face with the men. Unfortunately, knowing his sister, he had a sneaking suspicion that wasn't going to happen.

Terry went upstairs to her room and waited for the sounds of her brother's footsteps going to his room and later, Crystal walking past. The older girl entered the common room where she knew her sister was cleaning. She stopped in the doorway, one ear listening for any sound from Craig's room.

"Chris, I need to talk to you. Come in my bedroom."

Crystal dropped her dust cloth on an end table and followed her sister's back with a frown on her face. Her sense of misgiving increased when Terry shut the bedroom door behind her.

"I need a favor," Terry said.

Ah, now it comes out, thought Chris. "What?"

"I need you to stick around for three more days and then we'll both take the train back to London. I'm going to visit with you for awhile."

Chris gave the older girl a calculating look. "Is that the official version."

Terry grinned. "Yeah."

"So where are you really going to be?"

"You're better off not knowing that."

"It's obviously Army. You're not going on a mission without the guys are you?" The concern in her voice was palpable.

"No," assured Terry. "But Craig isn't to know that."

"How long are you going to be gone?"

"A month."

"A month!" screeched Chris in a high-pitched whisper. "I can't put Craig off for a month. What do I tell him?"

"The truth. You don't know where I am and you can't get hold of me. You don't have to mention the phone call with Major Richards."

"Are you having a fling with Richards?" asked the younger girl dubiously. Goniff had said not, but now she wasn't too sure.

Terry burst out laughing. "Heaven's no. Kevin and I are just friends. Not that kind of friends. Jeez, Chris, he's got ten years on Actor and he's too upper class and regular Army for me."

"Okay," said Chris resignedly. "Now you've got me lying to Craig."

G

Goniff sat downstairs in the common room by himself. He fidgeted until 2:30 in the afternoon before he figured the other cons would be up and it was safe to go upstairs. Terry had shut herself in her room. Christine was in the upstairs common room. The little pickpocket slipped past the girls and past the Warden's room to Casino's.

The safecracker was up and packing his grip. He looked at Goniff in annoyance. It frustrated him the Limey was not going to London with them. Now he didn't have anyone to hang out in the bars with.

"You got somethin' against knockin?" Casino grumbled.

"No," replied the blond man defensively. "I just didn't want the girls or the Warden to 'ear me. I need to talk to you an' Actor an' Chiefy."

Casino looked at Goniff in surprise. "About what?" The man was even more nervous than he usually was.

"Let me get the other blokes."

Casino watched him peek around the door and slip back into the hall. With a shake of his head, the safecracker went back to packing. If he didn't know better he'd 'a thought the Limey had taken one to the head.

Goniff snuck into Chief's room next. The Indian was already packed and about to go out the door when it opened in his face.

"Goniff, what're you doin'?" asked Chief in annoyance.

"Meet me next door in Casino's room."

Goniff slipped back into the hall and crossed to Actor's room. The door was shut, but again he sneaked inside. Actor looked up from packing, also in annoyance. He was not in a particularly good mood to begin with and Goniff was the last person he needed to deal with.

"Goniff," he said with haughty sarcasm, "I believe when a door is closed it means knock before entering."

"I know, I know," said Goniff, fidgeting more. "I need to talk to you and Casino and Chief. Come over to Casino's room."

"What now?" demanded the con man, but the pickpocket was already out the door.

Actor calmly finished packing. Obviously they were going to have one of their conferences, and he could only imagine the subject had something to do with Teresa. Smoothing his hair one last time in the bathroom mirror, the Italian picked up his kit and took his time making his way across the hall. Goniff was peeking out the door and held it open, beckoning the con man to hurry inside. Actor was not about to be hurried, so he was surprised when Goniff grabbed his jacket sleeve and pulled him into the room. The con man's outraged look sailed right over Goniff's head as the smaller man quietly closed the door.

Actor turned to the other two men. Chief was shaking his head. Casino just looked resigned.

"I think he lost a little too much blood there," said Casino. "He's a little lighter in the head than normal."

"Obviously," agreed the Italian with a sour look.

"A'right, Goniff," said Chief. "What's so dang important?"

Goniff looked at the three men. "I 'eard Terry tell the Warden she wanted to go to London with you blokes. Warden told her you didn't need 'er taggin' along. She wasn't 'appy about it. Shut 'erself in 'er room." He looked at the three men who were watching him to see if there was more to this story. "Did you tell the Warden you don't want 'er around?"

"I don't care if she comes along or not," said Chief, not about to commit one way or another in this matter.

"I didn't say nothin' to the Warden," said Casino, wondering if his earlier late night conversation with the man had any bearing on this.

Goniff looked at the tall con man. "Actor, you talked to 'er. Did you tell 'er you don't want 'er around?"

Actor remembered vividly that conversation and he was not inclined to share it with the others. "Goniff," he said with exaggerated patience, "I have plans for a very active evening with a very energetic young lady. Teresa would be by herself in the hotel. And I did not discuss any of this with the lieutenant, not that it is any of your business. Teresa is a grown woman. I am sure she can handle not going with us." He looked at his watch. "It is time to leave."

GGGGG

The drive to London seemed much longer than usual thought Garrison. It was entirely too quiet in the car. Maybe it was the lack of Goniff's effervescent and non-stop chatter. The atmosphere was close to that of the return from the mission. It definitely wasn't the usual cheerfulness a 48 hour pass generated. Chief never said much anyway. Casino was silent, as was Actor.

A trip to London with Actor in the front seat was always good for stimulating conversation. If nothing else there was a regaling of some of the lady's man's previous female conquests. This time the man was keeping to himself. Actor sat watching the scenery moving by. If he was thinking about his anticipated evening activities, it didn't show on the handsome face. There was no smile, not even a half of a grin. He might have been going to a dentist appointment for all the enthusiasm he showed. The only evidence of any emotion in the man was the growing pile of cigarette butts in the ashtray. Actor tended to chain smoke when he had something weighing on his mind, and he was chain smoking.

Garrison pulled the Packard to the curb in front of the hotel. "I'll pick you up Wednesday afternoon at three, right here," he told the men.

"Yeah," said Casino grumpily. "Uh, thanks, Warden."

"Sure," replied Garrison. He looked at Actor, who was still unsmiling. "Actor?"

The con man looked at the lieutenant, waiting for what he assumed were last minute instructions of some sort. Craig waited until the other two men were out of the car. He knew better than to ask this, but just maybe he'd get an answer this time. "You okay? Something wrong?"

Actor's face broke into a smile. "I'm perfectly fine, Lieutenant. What could possibly be wrong? I am looking forward to becoming very happily fatigued by morning."

Craig had been right. The man had disappeared behind the mask he wore to keep people from delving too deeply into his state of mind. "Well, enjoy yourself."

The smile widened. "Thank you. I fully intend to."

The Italian got out of the car and beckoned with an authoritative finger for the bellboy to retrieve their luggage from the trunk of the car before leading the other two cons into the hotel.

GGGGG

The repetitive clacking of the train wheels did nothing to sooth the agitated mind of the single occupant of the first class compartment on the train from London to Dover. It normally lulled the man into a feeling of well-being. This time his thoughts cycled as metallically as the wheels.

He hated scenes and the one this morning had been shrill and angry. How Actor wished Elizabeth had been in London instead of her country home. But Elizabeth was better able to read the con man's mood and it was a mood he had been trying to get away from. Marilee required no active thought from him. She chattered endlessly and her lovemaking was hot and wild, demanding no commitment on his part. Or so he had thought.

Actor had been rudely awakened this morning by a hissing, spitting she-cat. He had to act quickly to physically restrain her, preventing damage to his person from carefully painted fingernails that had turned into claws. According to the outraged young woman, he had spoken a name in his sleep. Never before had he uttered the wrong name to one of his bed partners, and he did not speak in his sleep. Unfortunately the name he supposedly uttered was Teresa's and there was no love lost between the two women. Actor would have put it off as being one of Marilee's flights of fancy, but he had been having a dream involving Teresa at the time. He did not remember what the dream was about, but if he _had_ spoken, it apparently was enough to send the volatile young blonde into a raging fit.

Marilee had become a mistake; one that would not be repeated. When they had first met in a night club, he had been attracted to her youth and vitality. Now that youth and shallowness were unpleasant. The blonde woman was younger than Elizabeth and slightly older in years than Teresa. Basically, he could have found the same release in a brothel, but refused the indignity of paying cash for his pleasures. If his reactions had not been so quick, he would have paid more than money for this escapade. The woman had gone for his face. He had gathered his few necessities that were by habit kept ready in the event of a hasty departure, and walked calmly out of the flat without a backward glance at the half dressed young woman standing brazenly in the open doorway, screaming obscenities at him.

The thought of being asked to explain his early return from a tryst that should have lasted another day and night to Chief and an especially curious and gloating Casino, had Actor hailing a cab and going to Victoria Station instead. Things would be quieter and calmer at the Mansion with Teresa, though the atmosphere would not be relaxing. The young woman had become cold, probably from what she perceived was his betrayal at not wishing her to accompany the group on missions, as he felt her betrayal at the brushing off of his confiding his trust in her. The thought that he could feel hurt by Teresa, brought him up short.

It had been many years since he had allowed a woman to be that close to him and to have that kind of control. He shifted in his seat, crossed his legs and lit a cigarette. Maybe control was not the correct term. Teresa had teased him, argued with him, but had never tried to control him. In issues that counted, and some that were of no consequence to anything, she had always deferred to him in the end. Even their arguments, though hot tempered on both sides, had dissolved into affectionate respect. _Merda_, this business the Warden had stirred up was making a mess. Actor admitted freely he worried about the young woman's safety and his responsibility for some of the untoward things that had happened to her. But, truthfully, he would feel better keeping an eye on her than worrying about her when she was gone. And he would worry about her. He told himself it was because he had accepted her as his responsibility and nothing more. _Dio! _Now he was accepting responsibility for people other than himself. This war had better end soon or he would find himself converted into a law-abiding citizen. Actor finished his cigarette, put the butt out in the ashtray, and leaned back, willing his mind to go blank and watched the countryside pass by.

The train crept into the station at Brandonshire and came to a stop with a screech of brakes. Actor rose from his seat, picked up his bag and joined the few people getting off at this stop. The waiting room emptied out quickly, leaving the Italian to contemplate his next move. It was 10 am. He doubted Teresa would be at the Fox yet. Kit was rarely inclined to do anything for him. And, it might take hours to hitch a ride back to the Mansion, besides being degrading. With resignation, he entered one of the red phone booths and placed a call.

Christine happened to be the one to answer the phone. Actor put on a pleasant voice and asked if the young woman minded coming to pick him up. She cheerfully told him she would be happy to. Relieved it was the younger girl coming to get him; he took a seat and smoked a pipe before going out to the curb just as the Packard pulled up. He stowed his bag on the back seat and climbed in the front.

Chris waited until she was to the outskirts of the village before sending a curious glance at the older man. "I thought you had another twenty-four hours of leave left?"

"Yes," replied the con man, coming up with what would be the patent story. "I am not feeling well and did not wish to be a burden on my lady friend, so I decided to cut my leave short. I appreciate you being so kind as to pick me up."

"Are you sick?" asked the girl in concern.

"Just a touch of the ague possibly," he replied unconcernedly.

Ague? She hadn't heard that word used in a long time. And the con man did not look ill. She wondered what was going on. Here was an opportunity to speak with the Italian. It wasn't as though he would jump out of the car if he didn't like what she asked. Crystal hoped she could understand and maybe smooth things a little between Actor and her sister. She didn't have Terry's way of easing things and she was a tad nervous about what she was going to say to the man.

"When I first met you, in France, I was afraid of you. I didn't trust you," Chris began. It elicited a silent look from Actor. "Terry trusts you. I still find you intimidating," she confessed and added quickly before he could respond to that, "but you seem to be a good man."

A good man? He wondered what defined that term in the younger girl's mind. Intimidating? Yes, he was. He did not wish to get into this conversation with Christine and did not answer in the hopes she would be 'intimidated' enough to drop it.

"You and Terry are good together."

Obviously she was not only _not_ going to drop it, she was going to delve into waters she shouldn't.

Chris drove the big car without looking at the man beside her. "I hate seeing you two at loggerheads. I don't know what you argued about, but I wish you could talk it out or something and get back to the way you were."

Actor definitely did not need this right now. "Christine, my conversation with Teresa is private and not any of your affair." He watched her wince and a deepening pink come to her cheeks. He was being crass and it was uncalled for. The child was concerned. "Sometimes," he said softly, "two people discover they have differences that are not surmountable. It is no one's fault, but they must go their separate ways. Teresa and I have reached that point."

Chris nodded. "You two work together and seem so good together, I just wish you could try and straighten what ever happened between you out. I won't say any more, Actor."

"Thank you, Christine," said Actor with the right touch of warmth in his tone. "However, it is between Teresa and I."

The remainder of the drive was silent.

Reaching the house, Actor went inside and headed up the stairs. The Warden's door was closed, and Teresa was not in sight. However, Goniff was.

"Wot you doing back so soon, Mate?" asked the Cockney from a chair in the common room.

"I am not feeling well," replied Actor, continuing up the stairs.

He went to his room and shut the door behind him. The grip went on the floor beside his armoire. He was tired. The amount of sleep he had gotten at Marilee's flat and the cat nap he had taken on the train was not enough. He ran the fingers of both hands through his hair and bent to turn the covers back on his bed. He needed sleep before he could adequately deal with the tensions in the Mansion. Not bothering with pajamas, he stripped off his outer clothes and folded them neatly on his chair before climbing into the welcoming comfort of his bed. He pulled the covers over him and rolled onto his stomach. A twinge of pain hit his groin where the stitches had been. The act of turning onto his belly along with the strenuous activities of the night had put a strain on the healing wound. It eased quickly and he fell asleep.

Chris came inside the house and went immediately through the kitchen and out the back door. Her sister was planting herb seeds along the brick side wall of the garden. Terry sat back on her heels at the younger girl's approach.

"Actor's back early," said Chris. "He says he has the 'ague'."

Terry's eyebrows rose in amusement at that word.

"Ague, huh?"

She couldn't prevent her head from turning and her eyes from going up to the con man's bedroom windows. The drapes were open, but there was no movement. "Well, I'm sure it's nothing he can't take care of himself." She went back to her gardening.

Crystal shook her head and trudged back to the house. Both of them were stubborn.

An hour later, Terry finished laying out the herb garden to her satisfaction and went inside. She washed her hands at the sink. Terry went up to her room and changed out of her gardening clothes and into some clean ones. Hesitating in indecision first, she went down the hall to the confidence man's closed door and scratched on the wood. If he was awake, he would answer. If he didn't answer, he wasn't awake. There was no answer, so she eased the door open and peeked inside. Actor was sprawled on his stomach in bed.

Terry approached cautiously. Used to her footsteps and touch, he did not awaken when she laid the backs of her fingers against his temple. He wasn't overly warm with fever and his breathing was unlabored. He didn't look sick, but with Actor you couldn't tell what was going on. She backed out and left him be. He was a big boy and capable of taking care of himself or asking for something if he needed it.

G

Craig looked around the dining room table. The con man was at his usual spot opposite him at the table for supper, looking no worse for wear. Terry was in the middle of the table to Garrison's right and Chris and Goniff across from her.

Craig took a bite of vegetable stew and chewed it before addressing his middle sister. "Do you have plans?" He didn't really expect an answer.

"A few," replied Terry vaguely. She looked up at her brother with a touch of defensiveness. "I'm keeping the flat in Brandonshire and working the Fox."

"So you won't be gone away completely?" asked Goniff hopefully.

"I won't be living here," said Terry. "I put too much time and effort into that garden and the chickens for them both to die while you guys are gone. I request permission to attend to them when you are on a mission, Lieutenant."

If nothing else, she was stubborn, thought Garrison. Well, maybe he could ease her back into the fold so to speak. "Permission granted." He couldn't resist adding, "you do have clearance."

"I am aware of that," she said sarcastically.

Goniff, ever the peacemaker, butted into the conversation again. "Wot about when we are 'ere? Are you going to take care of the garden and birds then too?"

"No," replied Teresa. "Casino knows chickens. He can take care of them. I assume you gentlemen know how to use a hose and pull weeds. If you want food this winter, you'll have to take care of it yourselves." Her eyes went to her brother's. "I imagine you can request a corporal to take care of the household needs. Hopefully one that can cook." She looked back at her plate and continued to eat.

Garrison continued with his meal, feigning unconcern at his sister's tone. He was aware Christine was watching him, probably hoping he would cave and ask Terry to stay. He wanted to, but couldn't. He had dug this hole and Terry was rapidly burying him.

G

Craig drove into London the following afternoon to pick up Casino and Chief. The two were still wearing the effects of two nights in pubs and one with loose women. They had lost Actor from the start and really couldn't have cared less, though both were surprised to learn the con man had come back to the Mansion early.

Once back, everything seemed to return to normal. So it was, the next morning, Craig was surprised to see Chris coming downstairs with her bag and Terry following with hers.

"Would somebody be nice and drive us to the train station?" asked Chris.

"You're leaving," said Craig. "Both of you?"

Terry smiled. "I'm going into London with her. You wouldn't let me go on pass with the guys so I'm going to take some time to myself."

"I thought you were going to look after Goniff?" asked Craig.

Actor's here to look after Goniff." She turned a smile to the safecracker. "Casino, think you could look after the chicks for me?"

"I suppose," sighed the man. "But it'll cost you."

"Didn't think it wouldn't, Babe," she assured him.

Chief drove them into Brandonshire and saw them on the train to London, which was what he reported to Garrison. Craig knew his sister well enough to know Terry was up to something, but not what.

The two girls sat and watched the passing scenery. Terry was resting back in the seat, head turned to the window, lost in thought. Christine didn't bother her, lost in her own thoughts about the turn of events with her siblings. When they reached Victoria Station, the two rose and collected their bags. Terry followed her onto the platform and through the queue, but didn't follow her as she headed for the outside door. Chris noted her absence and stopped in the crowd to look back at her sister.

"You coming?" she asked.

"No, I'm not coming with you."

"Terry, where are you going?" Chris tried again to get an answer out of her sister.

"I'm just going to see some more of the countryside," was the breezy answer. "I need to catch the Tube."

"Terry, whatever you're about to do, be careful."

"I'm always careful," Terry replied.

Unhappily, Chris watched her sister disappear in the crowd going to the Tube.

It was a week later, when Christine got a phone call from her brother. Craig was not happy.

"Let me talk to Terry," he said brusquely.

"She's not here," replied Chris.

"Well get her back here!" he ordered. "We have a mission and I can't leave these damned chickens of hers."

"I – uh – don't know where she is," said Chris hesitantly.

"What do you mean you don't know where she is?" demanded Craig.

"She didn't leave the station with me. I don't know where she is."

A sick thought crossed Garrison's mind. "She didn't go join the Maquis did she?"

"I don't think so," replied Chris. "She said she was going to see some more of the countryside."

"There's a war on!" said Craig angrily. "You don't go sightseeing with a war on."

"I don't know, Craig!" Christine's voice rose in frustration. "Tell you what, I'll get on the next train and I will watch the chicks while you're gone. Will that do?"

"I guess it'll have to," he muttered.

"Well, thanks, Brother," said Chris angrily. "Now I know why you and Terry fight so much." She hung up on him.


	13. Chapter 13

Training Part 13

They dragged into the house, cold, wet, and miserable. The mansion was silent and empty, cold and musty smelling. There seemed to be a collective groan from the group. Goniff, ever trying to be optimistic, headed for the kitchen. A minute later, he was back shaking his head. The men went back into the kitchen and pulled bread, butter, and little bit of jam from the refrigerator. Though hungry, they were too tired to heat up the stove and make eggs and bacon. With a mixture of resignation, disappointment and sullenness, the cons ate what was there and went upstairs to their beds.

Garrison went into his office and shut the door, taking a seat behind his desk. He leaned an elbow on the desktop and ran fingers through his hair before resting his forehead in his hand. It had been three long weeks since Terry had gone to London. It amazed him how the morale around the Mansion had gone straight to hell without her presence. He was about to the point of finding her and begging her to return. If he couldn't convince her, then he would have to requisition a corporal or sergeant-major to take over the household duties. When they were fresh out of prison, the men weren't used to the luxury of having someone feed them and take care of their everyday needs. Terry had gotten them used to that. Now it was difficult for all of them, himself included, to go back to the old ways. He would also have to push more training exercises on them to keep them tired and less inclined to fight one another.

That evening, they debriefed in Garrison's office after a meager meal of fried Spam and potatoes with pullet eggs from the hen house, something they would have had for breakfast any other time. It did not improve the men's moods any. Craig looked around at his men. Goniff was to his immediate left, toying with a pencil, unsmiling and quiet. A sullen Casino was sprawled in the chair beside the Cockney. At the end of the table, legs crossed over the corner, was an equally sullen Italian. Chief was on Garrison's right, feet crossed on the table next to Actor's legs.

Garrison was determined to maintain his military bearing. It was like the first couple months with the cons fresh out of prison. "All right, transport in?"

"Why do we hafta keep jumpin' outta airplanes?" demanded Casino.

"It's faster than walkin', Mate."

"Funny, Goniff," shot back Casino. "They almost killed us with all that flak. Nothing like droppin' us in the middle of a bunch of Krauts. And Geronimo almost walked us straight into a patrol."

Chief's feet flew off the table and the front legs of his chair hit the floor with a bang as the young man surged to his feet and came partway across the table at the safecracker. "I got us outta there. You think you can do better, you take the point next time, Man."

"That's enough!" ordered Garrison. "Chief, sit down! Casino, put a lid on it!"

"You asked, Warden," said the safecracker, having to get the last word in.

Craig turned his attention to his confidence man. "Okay, Actor, what exactly happened in there?"

The Italian turned angry eyes across the length of the table. "What happened, Lieutenant, is they sent an insufficiently trained SOE agent with us. I don't know who had the brilliant notion that woman could run a con . . . All she had going for her were her looks and she could speak German. The game plan changed when the Field Marshal walked in. She could not handle a change in con. In fact she was shaking so badly, I was afraid she was going to speak English at any moment." He was angry at himself for not being able to contain the situation and angry at having to work with inferior operatives. "If Teresa had been with me, she would have made the transition with no problem and we would not have had to shoot our way out of there. The next time we might as well dress Goniff as a woman and put _him_ on my arm. It couldn't be any worse."

"And wot's that supposed to mean?" demanded the Englishman angrily, not understanding if he had just been insulted or not.

"All right! Enough!" barked Garrison in frustrated anger.

Chief lost his temper. "Is it, Warden? When's it gonna be enough? When we're all dead? We had a good con woman. Actor taught her for cryin' out loud. And at the very least, we woulda had somethin' decent to eat."

Garrison glared at the four men. "You worked without Terry for six months before she arrived. She didn't go on all the missions. You should be able to work without her again."

Casino snorted. "I swear, Warden, I'd do the dishes for a month if it would get her tuh come back."

"I bet Actor could talk 'er into it," said Goniff hopefully.

"I don't even know where she is," said the con man dryly. "And I doubt she would come back at my request."

"You know where she is, Warden?" asked Chief.

Garrison looked at the four faces watching him. The atmosphere had turned from highly charged to hopeful. "No, I don't," he replied. "If I could get her back, we'd have to take her on missions again," he warned them. Personally, right now, he'd agree to that. It was amazing how used to, no spoiled, they had become having her there for them.

"Hey, Warden, I promise not to blow her up again," said Casino earnestly.

"She was a very good partner on the cons," added Actor.

"I won't drop 'er off the bloody roof," promised Goniff.

I'm outnumbered, thought Garrison, with a sense of relief. He looked at the youngest member, who seemed to be getting a handle on his temper.

Chief shrugged. "We'd look out for her. Try tuh be better than before."

Garrison shook his head. "You guys were very good about looking out for her. None of it was your fault." Damn it, he wanted her back too, even though she was a pain in the rear at times. "Okay, I'll make some calls and see if I can track her down." He looked at his second. "You willing to talk to her? She probably won't give me the time of day," admitted Garrison.

"She isn't going to listen to me, Warden," said the Italian with certainty. "But I will back you up if you think it will help."

"Yeah, if you can find her," said Casino grumpily. He pushed away from the table and trudged out of the room.

The other cons followed in his wake, quiet and depressed. Garrison watched them. The morale was going down the tubes. They were coming together like a well oiled team, but the return to an empty house was demoralizing for them and himself too he had to admit. He hadn't realized how important Terry had become to the guys, but he should have. They had said themselves she was one of the few people who did not treat them like scum. Craig locked himself in his office. He looked at his watch and decided to make the call now.

Twenty minutes later, Gen. William Garrison, awakened from a not too sound sleep, answered the phone. "I assume this is a business call and not for pleasure at this hour," said the general wryly.

"No this is business, Sir," said Craig. "It isn't pleasure."

"What is it, Son?" asked the general.

"Do you know where Terry is?" asked Craig. "I need to talk to her."

"I know where she is," admitted Garrison. "And you can't talk to her."

"I really need to talk to her. Where is she . . . Sir." Craig was used to getting the run around from his father, but he wasn't up for it right now.

"Where she is is classified information. And you are not on a need to know basis." The older Garrison wasn't above jerking his eldest son's chain a bit.

"Classified?" said Craig in disbelief. "She's my sister for crying out loud."

"I am aware of that," said Garrison. "I did have a little something to do with that fact, if you recall."

"Yes, Sir," said Craig, holding his temper. He knew if he lost his temper he wouldn't get anything from the old man.

Garrison knew his son was about to eat crow. It was good for the boy, make him less cocky. "What do you need her for?"

"We would like her to come back," said Craig.

"As an active part of the team?" asked the general.

"If that's what it takes," agreed Craig. He wondered about that. "Dad, how can she go out with us? She shouldn't be able to do what we do. Terry's not regular army."

"And your convicts are?" The general laughed cynically. "The only one of your bunch who is regular army is you, Son, and even you are bordering on overstepping that status."

"So how do I go about getting her back?" asked Craig wearily.

"That is entirely up to her. If she wishes to rejoin your group after she is through with what she is engaged in, it will be allowed. But it is her choice."

"And how soon will she be done doing whatever it is she is doing?" asked Craig.

"That I do not know," answered the elder Garrison truthfully. It might be sooner than any of them would think. Apparently, the girl was giving her group a run for its money. She seemed to have picked up some unusual capabilities from her association with the convicts. "But, Son," cautioned Garrison, "if she does rejoin you, for your, my and the army's sake, could you try not to antagonize her too much?"

"I will try, Sir," said Craig, "but it's usually the other way around."

Gen. Garrison chuckled. "She does take after your mother's side of the family." He paused, making Craig wait. "I will see that she is informed of the need to meet with you. The rest will be up to you."

"Thank you, Sir," said Craig. He hated to ask his father for intervention of any kind, but figured that was what it would take to deal with Terry.

G

When the elder Garrison had hung up his phone and turned the bedside light out, he remained awake, laying on his back, and contemplated his middle daughter. General Garrison was given daily updates on his daughter's progress in training. He was a little surprised at some of the reports, but then not really surprised as much as proud. Terry had a mind like a bear trap. She picked things up quickly and well. Apparently she had learned more than a few things from her brother and his hoods. She was reportedly teaching her class and instructors a thing or two. Her training was going to take a shorter time than even he had expected. If Craig didn't want the girl back with him after this, then his son wasn't as smart as the general thought he was.

Was Garrison happy two of his girls and his youngest son were over in a war zone? Not particularly, but they had been raised in a military family and had grown up in a life of isolation and hard work; man's work for the girls. None of his daughters had cotton candy between their ears. Times were changing and he expected the military would have to change too. A good portion of the SOE and the Resistance was made up of women. Those women were doing a damn good job too. When they were working on the Continent, they didn't have the 'good ole boy' mindset to worry about. He had heard rumors of one female Resistance leader calmly walking into a roomful of SS officers, tossing a couple grenades, and walking out.

Though the older man could see the writing on the wall, it was still difficult to accept women were doing Special Forces work and flying bombers and fighter planes in transportation roles. Max Gallagher had told him Kit was at the base during an air raid. She had run out onto the field with the rest of the men and unbeknownst to Joe, had flown a B-17 out of harm's way with a crew of two nurses and three orderlies. Joe had thrown her off the base after that one. It was only a matter of time before women were accepted into the branches of the military and into combat positions. He hoped he was retired and out of it by then.

GGGGG

Another week and another mission later, the men were enjoying a day down; if enjoyment could describe it. Garrison had told them he was not able to contact Terry. They took it to mean he either hadn't tried or the girl was not interested in being found. Adding to the lousy mood they were in, was the disaster of the evening meal from the night before. Goniff had taken a stab at cooking a tiny roast he had found in the freezer. It had come out dry and tough as shoe leather and just as tasteless. That had sparked a fight between him and Casino that led to another fight later on between the safecracker and the Indian. Actor had tried to break it up and been punched for his effort, which ended in him decking the safecracker. Garrison had to physically break them up.

Craig was feeling a bit guilty knowing he was being sent into Norway again in another day, thus getting a reprieve from the men. There was nobody to con sit and he was pretty certain they would be in the stockade before he even reached the Norwegian coast. He wondered how long it would be before the cons settled down into their old routine before the arrival of his sister; or if they would.

Chief was in his window seat when the army car pulled up in front of the Mansion. He watched to see which Army officer would get out now. Sure thing they'd be going back in. To his surprise, the driver opened the back door and held a hand out to assist the woman getting out. Terry stood and carefully adjusted her stance before accepting the bag the driver retrieved from the trunk. Chief observed her nod her thanks to the driver and take the first few limping steps forward. She pulled herself together as the car drove off and attempted unsuccessfully to walk with a normal gait.

"She's hurt," said Chief in a low voice.

"Who?" asked Casino.

"Terry, who else?" said the Indian in exasperation.

"She's back?" asked Goniff hopefully.

"Yeah, and she's limpin'."

The men stared at the door until it opened and the woman hobbled inside, setting her bag down by the coat tree. She looked unsmilingly at the four faces staring at her.

"You okay?" Chief asked, knowing she wasn't.

"I'm okay," answered Terry.

Actor was on his feet and striding to her. Casino got up and pulled his chair around. Goniff was on his feet and Chief was standing by the window seat. Craig came out of his office and stared at his sister.

Actor tried to take her elbow, surprised when she pulled it away from him. He was even more surprised at the cool look she bestowed on him.

"I'm fine," she said coldly.

"I will be the judge of that," said the con man.

"You will keep your hands off me," said Terry firmly. "My ankle's sprained is all. I will take care of it when I get back to my flat. I don't need your help."

The con man looked at her sharply and turned back to his chair.

"Where were you and what happened?" demanded Craig.

She smiled at him almost defiantly. "They play a little rough at Achnacarry . . . as I'm sure you know."

"Training camp?" asked Garrison in disbelief.

Terry nodded.

"Didn't you go to the infirmary?" asked Casino as though she were an idiot.

"No."

"Why?" asked Craig sharply.

"Because I was the only woman in a group of twenty-five men, and I wasn't about to show any weakness," she shot back.

"Merda," muttered Actor in disgust.

"No," objected Craig. "Why were you in Scotland?"

Terry looked at him narrowly. "Well, you seem to think I'm not capable of being a working part of a team, so I went and took your training. I might be a little banged up, but I passed, fifth in the class. So I'm not perfect, but I can handle myself."

"Oh, for crying out loud, Terry," objected Craig, half in guilt, knowing he had inadvertently pushed her to this. "You are so damned stubborn."

"If you're going to start with me again, I'll just go on to my flat," Terry glared at him. "I was given a message to come talk to you, otherwise I would have gone straight to Brandonshire."

"Come into my office," invited Craig. He knew he had to be careful what he said to her from here on in.

Terry limped into the office and took a seat in front of his desk. Craig sat down on the corner of the desk facing her. He nodded toward her left foot.

"What happened?"

"Line snapped. I fell about five feet. Tried to stay upright, but came down on the foot crooked."

"You sure it isn't broken?" asked her brother in concern.

"It's fine," said Terry icily. "Will you get to the point of this meeting? I really would like to go back to my flat and stay off it for a few days."

Garrison had tried to rehearse what he would say to her when she finally showed up. Now nothing came to mind except to say it plainly. "We want you back working with us."

This brought an astonished look of disbelief from the girl. "You're joking?"

"No," replied Garrison.

"In what capacity?" she asked suspiciously. "Housekeeper?"

"No, the same as before."

He watched Terry digest that one. She still eyed him with distrust.

"A few weeks ago, you didn't want me around," she looked at him narrowly. "Why the change of heart."

"You're part of the team now." Craig scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. "I guess I didn't realize that," he admitted.

"You want me back?"

Craig wasn't sure if she was playing cat and mouse with him or if she really didn't believe him. He would just have to swallow his pride. At least behind closed doors.

"Yes."

"What about them?" Terry jerked her head in the direction of the common room.

"They want you back too."

"All of them?"

Craig frowned at that. "Yes, all of them."

Terry chewed on her cheek. "I don't know, Craig. I have a handler now. I'm pretty much a free agent."

"I was told it was up to you."

Terry nodded, frowning. "My coming back does not just rest on you, Brother," said Terry. "I need to speak with Actor before I say yes or no. And I don't want any input from you on this."

Craig nodded. Terry turned and went out the door. Four pair of eyes with various degrees of curiosity looked back at her. She walked up to stop in front of Actor.

"May I have a word with you in the library?" She looked at the other three cons. "In private."

"It will be private," said Garrison, leaning against the door jamb with crossed arms.

Terry turned back to Actor. He was watching her with an inscrutable look. This was not going to be easy. "Please?" she spoke softly.

The Italian said nothing, but snubbed out his cigarette and rose from his chair, motioning Teresa to precede him. She walked into the library and stood by the table waiting for him to close the door. When he had, she turned to him. He was watching her, face guarded.

Terry composed herself. "I'm going to say a few things I probably shouldn't say. But that has never stopped me before. The last time we talked, in the gazebo, I had preconceived notions. You and Craig talk together sometimes. I – I thought he had told you to convince me to quit. He knows I listen to you." She caught the minute twitch of an eyebrow. "Well, I listen to you more than I listen to him. You know what buttons to push on me. I – thought you were conning me. Now I'm not so sure." The silence was awkward. " You said . . ."

"I am aware of what I said," he interrupted sternly.

"Well, whether it was or wasn't a con, would you be willing to partner with me again on some missions?"

She didn't dare look at him. The silence stretched on, broken only by the ticking of the mantel clock.

"I – am willing," he said finally.

Terry squeezed her eyes tight shut and swallowed hard in relief. Now she could look up at him. His face was still closed. "Thank you," she said.

He didn't answer. In that moment, she knew without a doubt that what he had said in the gazebo had been true. Actor turned toward the door.

"Umm, there's something else I probably shouldn't say," Terry said.

Actor paused and turned his head to look at her.

"You have been a good friend to me," said Terry softly. "I've missed that. I've missed you. And I know you and Craig talk. I thank you for that. It's good he has a man he can talk to . . . a good man."

There was a chink in the wall. This was the second time in less than a month he had been accused of being 'a good man' by one of the Garrison girls. Actor sucked his cheek in and contemplated before saying, "It goes both ways." He walked out the door, leaving Terry to wonder if he meant Craig, or her, or both of them.

Terry watched his back. She knew it would take time and careful effort to win the man's trust again, and she was up for it.

Garrison noted his second didn't look any happier coming out of the library than when he had gone in. Terry appeared at the door and exchanged a look with her brother. She gave a small nod.

"Who do I have to contact," asked Garrison, carefully hiding his relief behind a formal military bearing.

"Major Richards," replied Terry.

Craig went into his office and started placing a call to the Commando Major. He was sure Richards was real pleased to be Terry's handler. He would probably be happy if Craig took her off his hands.

Terry, in the meantime, looked askance at Actor. He was still watching her with an unhappy expression.

"Could you – uh – look at my ankle? Please?" she asked. "It needs wrapping. It's just in my boot."

Actor rose from his chair and motioned her to sit at the gaming table. "Someone get an aide kit while I try to get her boot off."

He had wrapped the injured ankle with an elastic wrap by the time Garrison came to the door of his office.

"Major Richards wants to talk to you, Terry," said Garrison.

The young woman got up and gave the older man's shoulder a squeeze in appreciation before she hobbled into the office, one boot on, the other foot wrapped. She picked up the phone and spoke briefly, listening for a long time after. Garrison watched her. Her face betrayed nothing about what was being said.

"Yes, Sir," she finally answered. "That will be fine, Sir. Thank you, Sir." She hung up the phone and looked at her brother's questioning face. "I guess I'm yours again."

He shook his head, secretly relieved she was back, as he watched her hobble back into the common room.

"Somebody want to drive me to my flat so I can get some things?"

"You cooking dinner, Love?" asked Goniff hopefully.

This earned him three exasperated looks from the other cons and a grin from Terry. "Sure. What do you have for meat?"

"Army rations," said Casino in disgust.

"Okay," said Terry was a smile. "Does somebody want to take me to my flat and then to my favorite meat market? Actor, I need money. Craig, I need ration coupons."

The confidence man and the lieutenant exchanged looks, both aware the other was relieved at getting the girl back.

"I will take her," said Actor with exaggerated weariness.


End file.
